


Protoanemonin

by Enchanted_Marionette



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 15-year-old Frisk, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe: Underfell - Freeform, Characters are evil, Conscience Flowey, Cruel Frisk, F/F, F/M, Formerly Evil Asriel, Homicidal Papyrus, Human and Animal Experimentation, Implied Murder, M/M, Mad Scientist Alphys, Manic Sans, Multi, Murder, No Mama Toriel, Or lost, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pacifist Chara, Resets, Romance will not be main focus, Sadistic Frisk, Second-Person Narrative, Slightly Masochistic Sans, Tem Wants All The Dog Residus, You don't want to eat the pie, be warned, slight animal abuse, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-06-09 09:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchanted_Marionette/pseuds/Enchanted_Marionette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were always considered an odd child, whether it was by your peers or by your family members. Not odd in the sense that you were inherently particular or peculiar; you weren’t quirky and didn’t love to style your hair in ways that no other child would be caught dead in. You were the type of odd child that favored watching spiders spin their webs instead of playing kickball with all the other children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING (for this chapter) : Child abuse, Manipulation, Sadism, and the like.
> 
> Protoanemonin: Protoanemonin is a toxin found in all plants of the buttercup family. When the plant is wounded or macerated, the unstable glucoside found in the plant, ranunculin, is enzymatically broken down into glucose and the toxic protoanemonin.

You were always considered an odd child, whether it was by your peers or by your family members. Not odd in the sense that you were inherently particular or peculiar; you weren’t quirky and didn’t love to style your hair in ways that no other child would be caught dead in. You were the type of odd child that favored watching spiders spin their webs instead of playing kickball with all the other children. Enticed, you would watch as the spider of the day wove and weaved its way from the middle of its web to the outer wings. It was in the midst of creating a true masterpiece.

When the creature was finished, it creeped its way back to the middle. Caught in a stump, the spider would stop for a minute and consider your prying eyes with slight interest, going rigid. Your enchantment faded slowly as the spider stubbornly remained immobile. When your annoyance peaked, you would pluck the spider from its place and stare as it curled into itself. It was pretending to be dead! How coy! You smiled at the feeble attempt at retribution. You held it between your forefinger and thumb, careful not to damage it. You were the kind of child that pulled the legs off the immobile spider and dropped its limbless body in the dirt as the bell rang, signalling the end of recess. You were the type of child that enjoyed inflicting pain on others.

Allow me to explain further.

When you were born, the doctors were concerned by your lack of noise. Unlike most babies, you did not cry immediately after entering this world. You were shockingly silent. The doctor in charge ordered the nurse in his care to stroke your feet which caused you to gurgle and hiccup your first breath. Their concern only grew during your first few weeks at home since you would not communicate your needs to your parents. They would use a strict schedule when they bottle fed you but you made no attempts to remind them if they lost track of a few minutes. Your room was lit dimly for when you woke up during the night but your insomnia wasn’t complained about.

By the time you were two, your parents had just about given up teaching you how to speak. You had visited your nervous doctors, gotten recommendations for various speech therapists, but your parents hadn’t seen any changes. Your mother and father began to fight more, blaming each other for your irregularities. You’d watch them fight, raise their fists at each other, and drink away their troubles over a bottle of gin. They weren’t bad people just misguided ones.

By the time you were five, your parents decided to beg the speech therapists to stay during one of your meetings. The therapist, whose name was lovingly engraved in your memory as Marla, accepted and sat your parents in a side room where other doctors would come in to check on your process through the 2-way mirror.

You knew the difference by now. Marla would lead you to a room and excuse herself for a few minutes, allowing you to do your work. Each room had a mirror and an amazing assortment of puzzle games, board games, and spelling corners. You scuffed the slippers on your feet over to the mirror and glanced at it, tilting your head. You lifted your index finger and pressed your nail against the glass and analyzed your reflection. There was no gap between your actual nail and the reflection. This was the sign of a 2-way mirror. If there was a gap, then it was a genuine mirror.

You decided that you would need to be on your best behavior today.

Marla came in with an assortment of objects, which you offered to help her carry with a curious tilt of her head. She shook her head with a small smile on her face and thanked you earnestly. She left them on the small table in the middle of the room and sat down on the floor beside you. “Hello, Frisk. We have a lot of activities to cover today, are you ready to start?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” You answered neutrally much to the shock of your parents on the other side of the mirror. Every word was said without fault, every activity and puzzle completed with little to no struggle, every letter constructed carefully, every word written properly. You had even learned sign language which you preferred using with the young therapist.

“You have a very smart child,” Marla confessed once alone with your dumbfounded parents. “They speak very clearly and communicate thoughts with ease. We have even gained an early start on their education. Frisk seems to love math, they’ve already memorized their multiplication tables until the number eleven! They have such an amazing capacity for knowledge at such a young age!”

“That’s incredible,” your mother mumbled, a frown creasing her face.

Marla seemed upset by this reaction. “I would’ve told you sooner but you haven’t attended an open session since Frisk first began their meetings.”

Your father was just as shocked as your mother as he stared at you. You flipped through a child’s book that had been left by Marla some time earlier, seemingly unaware of the conversation at hand. “It isn’t possible.”

Your mother looked at your father and back at your therapist. “Frisk hasn’t ever spoken a word to us. They hardly listen when we engage them into a conversation! It’s like they aren’t really there!”

Marla attempted to calm down your upset parents as you gazed up from your book with a lazy smile. It had been a good game, but now you would have to change your tactics. You had never felt any urgency to socialize with any other human unless it benefited you. Communicating with Marla felt like the best option to convince the scientific world of your normalcy. Marla gave your doctors peace-of-mind and she gave you space to explore anything you were interested in. You had learned some basic astronomy, math and science. Marla had also expressed interest in teaching you how to speak Spanish and French. She let your mind expand without all the necessary questions that came with it and you greedily consumed the knowledge with a ferocity you never thought you knew.

You had abandoned the use of your voice completely around your parents. Their hopelessness around you made you feel oddly satisfied. Something about watching them scramble only to have their shoulders slouch in their self-pity after their efforts weren't returned made you feel much better about yourself. They assumed you detested them. That would have to change.

After that meeting, you started to acknowledge them little by little. Since they were only starting to learn sign language, you humored your naive parents by speaking softly to them at times and correcting their errors. They had started to get used to your chime-like voice. Then, you started to toy with them once again.

At the age of six you took up archery with a plastic bow and arrow set they had bought at the dollar store. Your father jeered whenever you managed to hit the plastic target tacked onto a cork bulletin board. Your father had rigged the clothesline to hold it up and since the mechanism could be lowered and lifted naturally. You appreciated your father’s work. The fact that you could act genuinely around him made it so much easier to start resenting your mother. Your mother who, other than doing the housework and keeping an eye on your schoolwork, didn’t do much to sustain your interest.

After you expertly shot another arrow into the circular target, you grinned while your father clapped appreciatively and commented about how they should invest in real lessons for you. You let your eyes wander over to the window in the kitchen that overlooked the backyard. Your mother smiled from that window and seemed to return to washing the dishes.

 You carefully took out another arrow from the little shoulder quiver your father fabricated himself off of some tutorials he had found in an archery handbook for beginners. You stuck the end of the arrow onto the cord and rested the arrow on the shelf before drawing the cord and arrow back as far as you could. You held it there against your anchor point, which was right above the corner of your mouth. You placed the point of aim higher than the target and spun on your heel to face the window. You released the arrow and smirked when it hit the window with so much force that it startled your mother and stuck to the pane. Since it was a suction cup arrowhead, the arrow remained where it was. Your mother glanced down at you in horror and your face blanked by the time your father approached.

“Frisk! Are you okay? What happened?” He asked as he took your shoulder in his large hand. Crocodile tears brewed in your eyes as you sniffled and murmured about how you slipped.

He smiled softly and hugged you. “It’s alright, honey. Go inside and clean yourself up. I’ll be right behind you after I get that arrow down.”

You nodded and made your way inside. You passed your mother who was opening up the patio door. She glowered at you as you entered but you didn’t acknowledge her presence at all. She stalked out to talk to your father and you made your way to the sink. You picked up a wet rag and wiped your face. Once finished, you peaked through the window to see your mother gesturing wildly with her arms and your father sighing deeply.

Once you started school, everything went downhill for your family. You threw tantrums around your mother that abruptly ended when your father came home, you made yourself sick after some meals in order to make it difficult for your mother, and you screamed whenever she tried to carry you. Soon enough, you got bored and your throat went raw.

“That child hates me!” You mother screamed to your father after drinking a little too much wine with a few ‘friends from work’ around the dinner table. Meaning that your mother was fighting for a new position at her workplace. You refused to engage in any sort of exchange with the older men and women, ignoring their efforts with a hostile glare and a half-hearted grunt. She drank more and more as the night rolled on so it wasn’t a surprise that she broke down in front of her workmates who have now deemed her mentally incapable of taking any more responsibility at this time.

“Frisk doesn’t like new people! You know that!” He shouted back. “You know how they act when they’re uncomfortable! You never told your superiors that Frisk is anti-social!”

Your mother sobbed loudly, “Couldn’t it just be normal? Just once? That thing is out to get me!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Your father bellowed. “That thing is our child! I love them! If you have any issues with Frisk, you bring them up to me. Now, I’m tired. I’m going upstairs to sleep in the guest room. Don’t follow me.”

Your mother screamed and yowled the entire night before the front door slammed behind her. She took the car. You knew because you could see the headlights shining through your thin curtains. You shook your head solemnly. Drinking under the influence is a no-no.

At school, it didn’t make a difference. You acted up there as much as at home. You never got punished, mind you. Your intelligence level was so high that teachers were convinced that you could attend honors courses by the time you reached the first grade. Kindergarten was a gateway into organized education so it was obligatory to attend. Your father still drove you to visit Marla who still taught you about anything that peaked your interest. By this time, you were reading more chemistry textbooks than you were chapter books. You were too much of a realist to find enjoyment in fantasy fiction which seemed to be in style for children your age.

Your intelligence gave you an advantage over the other children. One incident that proved that to you was when you convinced Martin Clint that touching an exposed light bulb was a good idea. The bulky six-year-old jolted back in shock when the bulb burned his fingertips and he cried boisterously. One of the monitors came in and took the child over to another table to treat the minor burns. The boy squealed on you quickly and you were sent to your main teacher, Mrs. Einsfeld.

Mrs. Einsfeld had a mole on her cheek that was the size of a dime. It was so distracting that I stopped my description on that alone. She sat up straight and looked at you with as much seriousness as she could muster.

“Frisk, we have been getting a lot of strange confessions from the other children in your class. One said that you put a frog in their lunchbox, another said that you kicked a soccer ball in his—” She paused, collecting her bearings, “—‘personal’ areas. Now, we also have this incident to tally up as well! Is there any reason why you might be acting up? Is everything okay at home?”

Huh? “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started. “Children have a tendency to act up when something is going on at home. You know you can talk to me or any of the other teachers if you have any issues, Frisk. It’s our job to help you!”

You hung your head, considering the idea and concealing your determined poker face. “Mommy and Daddy fight a lot. They scream and throw stuff. I-I know that it’s all my fault. They always yell about me. My mommy calls me ‘that thing’ and my daddy defends me. I hate it!”

Mrs. Einsfeld, being a mother of two, hugged me tightly. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m so glad you told me!”

You were thankful that she gave you an opportunity! It wasn’t such a big lie after all. Your mother smashed a couple of plates during a fight earlier that week! This was just getting better and better!

Mrs. Einsfeld pulled away to look you in the eye, “Have they ever hit you, Frisk?”

You gasped in mocked shock and shook your head quickly. Mrs. Einsfeld said that she needed to keep a closer eye on you for now on. All you needed now was a little more…convincing evidence. No child would willingly talk about their parents abusing them! That was far too unrealistic. When you got to the solitude of your room, you started your work. Your mother and father had gone to couple’s counseling. They had left you a sandwich on the counter and a simple note to be in bed by eight. 

Now all you needed to do was beat yourself up a little. So you approached your bedroom wall and lifted your fist. Then, you quickly shook your head. No, any injuries that seem like you defended yourself will seem uncharacteristic. You walked over to your bed frame instead and held your breath as you lifted your leg slightly and rammed it into the bed’s leg twice. You swore and clutched at the area. You got up slowly before making your way downstairs to the kitchen table. You pulled out a chair which was quite high for you and jumped onto its seat. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding before you swung back and forth, causing the chair to topple backwards. Your back hit the back of the chair hard. You rolled out of that position and started whacking your arms with closed fists until you saw the knuckle marks turning a gruesome red. Pinching and pulling at the skin near your collar bone, chest, and hips came next before turning to your home’s staircase.

You laughed. There was no way you were going that far! You could do some irreparable damage! Instead you climbed up the stairs and ran into your room. Then, you got on your bed and rolled right off of it. Okay, to be honest, you found that much more fun than harmful. But there was still an area on your stomach that had managed to get hit hard enough. In the midst of falling, you managed to pull some of your sheets off the bed as well. After you managed to untangle yourself, you stumbled over to the bathroom. You picked out two facecloths and drenched them in water before dripping them over the tiled floor. Then, you wrung them out, one at a time, letting globs of water fall to the floor. Once you were done, the bathroom floor was like a regular slip’n’slide. You walked out to end of the hall and took off like a bat out of hell. It had the desired effect and you fell quite comically, landing on your chest and bracing yourself with the back of your arms.

You rested there for a long time, crying softly. You were winded. It had hurt but it was self-inflicted. It was for a much bigger plan. Right now, your body was trying to stop the internal bleeding. The pain would fade soon. You sighed shakily and got to your feet again, ready to eat supper and go straight to bed. It didn’t matter if it was only six o’clock. Your limbs trembled from exertion as you cautiously made your way down the stairs. You plucked the sandwich off the counter and internally cringed when you saw mayonnaise. You hated plain old mayonnaise. You much preferred ketchup or mustard.

You walked over to the living room and switched the television on. Bugs Bunny was on, easily getting around Elmer Fudd and Daffy Duck in the Hunting Season short. It was one of your favorites. When you finished the sour tasting sandwich, you switched off the television and returned to the kitchen to put your dish in the dishwasher. You went back upstairs and cleaned up after yourself in the bathroom. After that mess was sorted out, you made your way into your bedroom and flicked on your night lights so you could navigate through the dimly lit darkness. You found your bed and lifted your pillows to pull out your pyjamas. You quickly stripped down and threw on your pyjamas before climbing lazily into bed, further musing your ravaged sheets.

Two days later and the bruises were only getting darker. You had noticed that the teachers were paying more attention to you during breaks and daycare activities but you hadn’t made any attempts at exposing your injuries. Seeing them darkening all over your body heightened your resolve. Today was a pedagogical day at school so you were alone with your mom. Your mom was working from home today and your father was heading to the office for the day. He would be back around four o’clock.

You sat on the second step on the staircase and watched as your father ran like a chicken with his head cut off for around fifteen minutes. Then he stooped down to your level and kissed your forehead.

“Be good for Mommy, okay? You know how much stress she has been under.”

You nodded your head and it was at that moment that your mother appeared. Your father watched her expression as she stared at you carefully. “Good morning, Frisk.”

You tilted your head towards her slightly but still said nothing to her. You could tell that it got on her nerves. You spoke to your father constantly but seemed to have no voice when she approached. She had tallied it up to you being an odd child.

Your father left and your mother settled to watch her soap operas on the living room couch. You prepared some cereal and waited until it got soggy. It was always at its best when it was soggy. When you were finished, you drank all of the milk in your bowl and left your bowl and spoon in the sink. So you stalked up to your room to change into a faded blue long sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. You had taken your bath yesterday so you only needed to brush your hair and teeth this morning. Afterwards, you lounged around in your room and shot arrows at the ceiling before jumping on your bed to pull them all off. You didn’t want to bother your mother today. You were getting bored of her reactions.

You lost track of time and soon it was time to eat lunch. Your breathing hitched as you got up the wrong way, sending a shock wave of pain throughout your body from a sensitive cluster of bruises. With a sigh, you got yourself up and headed out of your room and down to the kitchen. You watched as your mom stirred a boiling pot on the stove.

“Do you want some Alphabetti?” She asked almost mechanically. You nodded and voiced a little grunt of approval before sitting on the chair that you had previously knocked over. This was so that your mother didn’t notice the wooden leg that was now loose because of the hazardous fall. She turned off the pot and poured some of the pot’s contents into two bowls.

When she placed the bowl in front of you, you spared a look inside at all the noodle letters floating to the top. Your mother brought the bowl to her mouth and started to slurp down everything in it. As an impressionable child, you felt it necessary to copy everything she did and ended up spilling the whole bowl onto yourself, the table, the chair, and the floor. Your mother gasped and you hissed as the hot soup made contact with your skin through your thin shirt.

“Frisk! Damn, you can’t ever just remain clean can you?” She groaned as she picked you up. You squealed and thrashed around as she did so but she plopped you into the sink before you could start screaming. You were quite a small child and the fact that you normally threw up after your mother fed you had helped your frail frame.

She left quickly to go get a clean rag and some new clothes for you and it was at that moment that realization dawned on you. She needed to take off your clothes. She would see all the bruises that you had inflicted upon yourself. You hesitated. This wasn’t going according to plan at all. You needed to upset her further. You reached over towards the stove which was located beside the sink and pulled the pot off of it just as your mother came into view. She paused and her eyes widened. The white carpeting was starting to look like a very bad idea.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

She rushed forward and you overturned the pot. The soup sloshed over the sides and onto the carpet, forever staining it. She paused and something seemed to possess her for a moment because she stomped over to you, snatched you from the sink, and threw you against the adjacent wall. When she came to her senses, the deed had already been done and you stared up at her with emotionless eyes and an arm bent at an odd angle.

“Ow,” was the only sound you uttered.

 The trip to the hospital was not a pleasant one. Your mother had forgotten all about your new set of clothes and drove you there with a shirt stained with sticky soup on your chest. She had tried to apologize but you remained eerily quiet. Your plan was going faster than scheduled, but you would deal for now.

Upon seeing your arm and the guilty state of mind your mother had, the nurses had isolated you from her in order to get the entire story. After being asked a series of questions concerning your arm and the bruises that they saw, you said that you had fallen down the stairs and were very clumsy at school. They didn’t seem entirely convinced but after examining the x-rays, they came to the conclusion that the fracture was minor but you would still need a cast. Once the cast was made and set, the nurses gave you strict orders to not get it wet.

Your mother came in not long after that. The medical professionals looked at her seriously during this time, taking in her disheveled appearance.

“Frisk told us that they fell down the stairs and broke their arm, is this true?”

“Y-yes,” your mother agreed. “It was so shocking…”

The doctor in charge nodded apprehensively. “It must have been. But the bruises all over their body are inconsistent.”

“Bruises?” Your mother whispered traitorously, glancing over at you wearily.

“Because of the inconsistency of the child’s injuries and the possibility of a longer time frame of injury, we have no choice but to notify social services. They will send around a new counselor who will routinely check the house and talk to Frisk as well as you and your husband. We cannot overlook this.”

Your mother hadn’t spoken about the incident until you got home. Your father raced to the door to greet you but upon seeing his child in a cast, he turned to your mother for an explanation.

“I fell down the stairs,” You told him quickly as your mother floundered. You turned to your mother as you said the next part, “Mommy found me and brought me to the doctor. Right, Mommy?”

“That’s right.” She glanced at you curiously.

“Alright, I have supper just about ready. I’m glad you’re okay, Sport.”

Your father bent down and hugged you, awkwardly avoiding your cast. He kissed your forehead, got up, and returned to the kitchen. Your mother, on the other hand, leaned forward into your personal space.

“What have you got to gain, you little brat? What do you want?” She growled as you tilted your head.

“I want everything. If you aren’t careful, Mommy, I’ll just go to the doctor and say that you hit me. You raised your hand against me. I can easily turn that into my advantage. I’d stay quiet if I were you.”

She tried taking your quiver and bow away. She also tried keeping you away from Marla but every time she tried to pull a fast one over your head, you rubbed your cast threateningly and shook your head. Suddenly, you would be pardoned. You were even allowed to eat cookies before bed.

It got even better once the counselor started visiting. You were on your best behavior as long as your mother hadn’t done anything to piss you off. Your father remained oblivious to your behavior but watched over your mother more often. Your mother went out to drink more often.

Your mother tip-toed around you for several years after that and your parents had another child a few months after you turned seven. Your father was unsure about keeping his daughter, knowing how your mother seemed to be ignoring you consistently, but you warmed up to the little girl quickly. It had also helped that your mother now had someone in the family to bond with. You carried the baby everywhere and took care of her. This charmed you father and disgusted you mother, who did everything to act as a third party whenever you were around the newly-born Clementine.

When you were nine, you found Clementine crying over your shared hamster’s cage. Your family had just gotten the little critter but the toddler overfed it causing it to kick the bucket way too early. She told you that in a desperate attempt to right the wrong she had committed. Little dead Delilah the hamster was then taken out of the cage by your hands and left on the floor for your mother’s new cat, Whiskers, to come and take. Clementine acted well; so well that their mother had sent the kitten back to the shelter. It seemed a little bit of oddness ran in the family genes.

When you turned ten, you’re father decided to leave you and the toddler alone for a minute to work on the car while you mother worked outside on the lawn. You ran out of the house, dressed clad in your pyjamas and urged your mother inside. She rushed in when she heard her daughter screaming.  Clementine was clutching her eye in a desperate attempt to stop the pain. Beside her, a bottle of drain cleaner poured itself out on the kitchen floor.

“What did you do?!” You mother screeched as she attacked you, violently shaking your shoulders. Your father ran in and separated you two, urging your mother to call for an ambulance.

You sobbed as your father took your sister into his arms and rocked her, trying to calm her while she wept. The three-year-old was taken by ambulance and your father allowed your mother to stay with the child.

“Frisk, what happened?” Your father asked you as you rode in the car.

“D-daddy. I-I didn’t know. She told me her eye was itchy s-so I told her to wait beside the sink while I-I got a rag. Then, I don’t know! She started screaming and I ran out and her eye was—”

“Damn it! You’re mother must have left out the drain cleaner out after she cleaned the damned sink! I knew having another child was a bad choice!”

He confronted her at the hospital but she screamed about how she put it back up into the locked cabinet. The only ones who knew how to unlock the cabinet were your parents and yourself, not that they knew of course. Some nurses had gathered to try and aid both your mother and father. Once they had calmed them down enough, they told them some grave news.

Clementine needed to have the eye removed.

“W-will sh-she need to get a glass eye?” You asked softly, curiously. Your mother, who was seated beside you, turned you and smacked you across the mouth with her ring finger. Shocked, you immediately pulled out of the seat and ran towards your father, who took you into his arms. The nurses gaped at the whole scene. One of them was calling child services.

“I-I didn’t mean it,” your mother stated, looking one of the nurses in the eyes. “I-I love my son!”

“Stay away from him from now on,” Your father growled as a response. “I should’ve known when you had the cast, Frisk. I should’ve known.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Daddy,” you moaned as tears started to spill down your face again.

Your mother was sent away or at least you didn't see her anymore. Your father became a depressed alcoholic. He couldn’t take care of you both on his own. He quit his job and sold the house before sending you and Clementine to a foster program. Your life was spent in foster home after foster home until Clementine was adopted by another family at the age of four. She now enjoyed wearing her eye patches more than having the glass eye in. She complained that it wiggled too much in her socket. On the day of her adoption, she gifted it to you and you lifted your finger to your lips in a signal for her to hush and she nodded. A promise that would forever be kept between the two siblings.

“Never tell anyone about what happened to your eye, alright? I’ll know,” You swore to her and she nodded apprehensively.

“Promise. I will never tell anyone what you did to me, Frisk. Mommy’s in trouble because of that and you could get in big trouble too! As long as you never tell anyone what happened to Whiskers.”

Oh, Whiskers. Thank you for being a twelve-year-old’s easiest piece of blackmail. You had convinced Clementine that if she even thought of telling anyone about how you tried to clean her eye out with the toxic fluid, she would get in big trouble for killing her hamster and sending their kitten away. You loved your naive sister immensely.

“Good luck out there, Clem. Do better than I will.”

At the age of fourteen, you left your newest foster home during the night after stealing the family’s rainy day money. It wasn't hidden very well. It was located in a wooden cabinet. All that was needed to complete the heist was a chair. Your knapsack was packed with a change of clothes, a rain jacket, a water bottle, and a peanut butter sandwich. You made your way to the local train station and you payed the fee for a ticket on the earliest train. The ticket lady waited with you until the train came late at night. She left two hours after her shift actually ended and you were grateful for that. Sitting alone was unsettling.

You got on the train and sat in the booth furthest away from the door. You told an attendant that you were riding until the end of the line and asked if you could be woken up when the train got there. The man lifted his brow and nodded his head slowly before checking on the rest of the passengers. You shut your eyes and fell asleep to the gentle vibration of the train cars.

You awoke to someone gently shaking your shoulder. “Hey, kid. Your stop’s up. Are you sure you don’t want to ride back with us?”

You shook your head and dazedly got to your feet. The train hissed to a complete stop as you did so. “Kiddo, this place is practically abandoned. At least let us bring you back a stop or two.”

“This is where I want to go. I’ll be fine. I’m meeting someone,” you lied. “If anything, I’ll wait until the next train comes back.”

The train attendant sighed but allowed you to get off, opening the car up. With your bag slung across your shoulder, you watched as the train retreated slowly back into the woods. A little path pave the way down a mountain into what seemed to be a tiny village.  You followed it, a frosty breeze causing your teeth to chatter as you pulled on the hem of your striped sweater. Little golden flowers wilted under the weight of the early morning frost that had settled over them, causing them to be more of a sickly cream color. They shivered as the wind gusted by.

Once the village was sprawled out in front of you, the first thing you noticed was the graffiti. Houses and shops were tagged in bright reds and greens. Even the boarded up windows seemed to have these splashes of color. The original paint was starting to peel from the foundation of each house, making them seem decrepit and chilling. You looked at the path below your feet and saw a message inscribed in the dry earth.

_Follow the path to the mountain._

You knelt down and followed the inscription with nimble fingers. It had been carved in so deeply that the tip of your finger vanished beneath the dirt. You brushed the dirt off your knees as you stood and continued to follow the path that winded through the town and into a meadow of frozen flowers framing the edge of a woodland trail leading further up the mountain. The flowers broke like shards of glass underneath your sneakers.

Your trek in the woods was deathly silent. The only sounds that could be heard were the wet squelching sounds of your sneakers in the mud. Not a bird sang, not a tree rustled, even the woods had been abandoned years ago. There was a few inclines that you didn’t allow to discourage you. It was a mountain after all. The trail you followed could also be quite narrow, especially when you reached a very rocky pass that circled around an unstable cliff. Hugging the side of the rock, you shimmied your way across the path, missing your footing once and quickly recovering. The further you climbed, the colder it became until you could see your breath coming out in puffs and the ground beneath you froze. Snow fell in a lazy rhythm but you knew that the weather patterns could be extremely unpredictable at such a high altitude. You needed to find shelter. Your sandwich would keep you satisfied until you found a maintainable food source and if you found a cave with deep enough recesses, you could find fresh water. You could hear a water source nearby but the sound was tampered with by the increasing strength of the wind. It became harder and harder to breathe with every step you took.

Soon the snowfall turned into a frenzy. The flurries stuck to your clothes in clumps and started to dampen your sweater. You picked up your pace and found a small opening within the rocky wall of the mountain. You quickly hid inside and sat yourself down on the cold dirt. You took a moment to examine your surroundings. There were no bears in this cave, only one human and a beetle that crawled across the space in front of the human in a drunken fashion.

You opened your knapsack and took out your sandwich and coat. You placed the coat over your shoulders and snapped the ziplock bag containing your gourmet meal open. You dug your teeth into the sandwich, ripping a bite off of it, and chewed noiselessly. The peanut butter stuck to the walls of your mouth but that was the joy of peanut butter. You found and sipped at your water bottle as you ate. Once you finished, you got up, shrugged the jacket off your shoulders, and walked out of the cave to enjoy the waves of snow under the dawning, snowy sky. You explored the area surrounding the cave, being careful not to stand at the cliff’s edge but you were curious. Something was calling you over. You walked over solemnly and gazed over the edge, leaning forward in order to see what might be at the bottom. The shift in your weight caused the edge to crumble under your feet and your loss of balance, causing you to pitch forward and fall off the rim. You screamed, your arms jutting outwards from your body to slow your fall. You were going to hit the ground stomach first. There was nothing you could do.

Reluctantly, you accepted your fate. You went still as you fell through the air. In the midst of falling, you felt something tug at you. You felt weightless for a moment, almost like you had stopped falling before your heightened sense of panic caused you to black out.

 


	2. One Big Happy Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet Flowey, Chara, and Toriel.  
> On the fifth afternoon, you snapped.
> 
> You waited at the front door until Toriel came home, drawing up a new murderous plan on red cardboard paper. When she entered, she was startled by the sudden apparition of your big maroon eyes and giant smile.
> 
> “Mommy? Can you tell me where the knives are?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Temporary Character Death, Implied Character Death, Sarcastic Flowey, Narrator Chara, basically the same as before.

When you awoke, you were lying on your back in a patch of beautiful buttercups. The bright mid-morning sun blazed through the sliver of light that you must have fallen from. It was a terribly long fall but, miraculously, you were alive. You blinked your eyes and slowly became accustomed to the light. You turned your head slightly to each side, giving a thankful glance to the giant buttercups that shouldered the burden of your fall. You sat yourself up and wiggled your legs and each of your toes within your sneakers. Nothing was broken or injured. You furrowed your brow but didn’t give it much thought.

You remembered the feeling of being suspended mid-flight, the gravity defying pull that had somehow made you weightless. Something inside of you was convinced it had been some form of _magic_ but your unrelenting sense of realism pushed the thoughts aside. Magic didn’t exist, you thought stubbornly. The flowers underneath your body suddenly made you shudder and curl your lip in disgust. Once, you had found them quite beautiful. You abandoned such thoughts hastily as well. They didn’t seem like _your_ thoughts, now did they?

Now on your feet, you regretted walking away from your backpack and jacket. Now you had no change of clothes, nothing to protect yourself from the rain, no cash, no way out. You cussed and kicked a rock a few paces away from you. The cavern was cold and damp. The sound of water dripping from the ice stalactites echoed off dark passages of the area. You needed to keep moving forward. You felt around for an edge, a wall of the cavern that you could follow with your fingers. Without your sense of sight, your sense of touch would be needed as your guide. You groped around blindly until you found the cold, wet, rocky surface. You recoiled at first; shocked by the slimy, almost frozen surface. Placing your hands against it once again, you clambered further away from the patch of flowers and deeper into the pit of the darkness.

Suddenly, the wall gave way to a beautifully crafted column. The column was heavily inspired by Ancient Greek architecture, resembling an Ionic column. It had been crafted from the rocky wall. A few meters away was an identical column. You looked up and even in the murky dark you could see what appeared to be a symbol etched into the top of the opening. You made your way through the opening and were surprised to see another patch of bright green grass. A single flower bloomed in this area, its petals were chipped and torn. Its bruised petals were a dull cream color in certain areas. From the most damaged areas, a pale yellow oil seemed to secrete like puss. You were looking at it from the back, since the flower was facing away from you, but you could clearly see that it was dying. Even its stem was extremely hunched over.

You approached it slowly but your footsteps were loud in the idleness of the cavern. The flower turned brusquely, allowing you to see the flower’s stamens and pistils. Two widened eyes stared back at you from where they were located among the pistils. You were stunned by the odd creature, so much so that you stopped dead in your tracks to stare at it.

“Why are you here?” It whispered so crossly that its mouth twitched. “You _died_. Are you trying to haunt me?”

Slowly, the flower seemed to turn its body towards you. It was as if it could retract its roots and set them at a different angle in order to view you fully. It laughed warily, its leaves trembling at the force of the sound that erupted from it. Its voice was high-pitched. Not nasally but similar to the voice of a male child.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” The flower protested meekly with a desperate smile on its face. “I’m not guilty, Chara! You know that, don’t you? I was a good partner! I protected you. I buried you in the flowers, I thought it would make you happy.”

“My name isn’t Chara,” you announced as you walked around the mentally unstable flower.

“That’s impossible. You obviously don’t remember! I’m so sorry for what happened, it was all my fault! But, I’ve been good for you, Chara. I haven’t dusted anything since you died. They’ve dusted me over and over again.” Its voice faded to a near-whisper. “But I kept coming back, Chara. I knew that you cursed me. You gave me these powers so I could keep living the horrors that you had to face!”

“I’m tired, Chara,” it continued in a weepy-tone, appearing next to you as you walked further. “I just want it to end. I want to get out of here. Like you promised. I can’t get to the Barrier on my own. I need your help.”

“My name isn’t Chara!” You yelled as you spun to face the flower. The flower’s face fell. Then, its expression twisted and contorted into a maddened grin that seemed to take up most of its face.

“Well then,” It spat. “I have no need for you. You could just die, you stupid human!”

You watched as a red light burst from your chest. A little red heart glowed above where your actual beating organ was. Little white pellets encircled the flower and seemed to propel from its very being. You gasped and tried to run away as the white pellets sank into your skin like bullets. You fell to the ground. The flower was relentless. It kept sending wave after wave of its projectiles. One sank into your shoulder, another was lodged into your spine, and others were embedded in random areas of your body. After the first few had landed, you began to feel numb. The strike that promptly ended your life was the one that had stabbed through the back of your neck. Your gaze spotted and you plummeted into eternal darkness.

_Frisk! You have to stay Determined! You can’t give up…you’re the new future of humans and monsters._

As the voice faded, your eyes opened. In front of you, amidst the blackness, was a floating red rectangular frame. Written in the same bloodied color was a single word:

Reset.

You lifted your hand and hesitated.

  _Why are you hesitating, Frisk, I need you to help me._

“Who are you?” You asked, clutching your chest.

_My name is Chara. I’m your guide back to the Surface. Back to your home._

“I have no home.” You said and then a thought came to you. “That flower, it spoke of you. You died.”

_That’s right. I have died. Now, I’ve been reduced to a spirit that guides children like you through the Underground. I haven’t been spoken to until now. It’s a lonely existence. You have a red soul like mine was but you have the choice to Save and Reset. It doesn’t seem fair to me. I should’ve had that choice._

“Look; I can lie and say that I’m sorry that you died but we both know that I don’t care,” you chuckled and I bristled.

_That’s just what I mean! Your soul may be red like mine but your heart is black and empty like this place. The Void is about as empty as you are. An empty vessel, abandoned by the humanity that was once stored there. I had a dream to live peacefully among the inhabitants of the Underground. With your powers, I would’ve been able to do it! I would’ve befriended everyone! I would’ve saved everyone, even Asriel. You could change your ways, Frisk. You can save them!_

“Speak for yourself. The only thing I need to save is the skin on my back.”

_Can you really be that heartless?_

You laughed bitterly, “Oh, that’s priceless. So cliché. The basic line to every protagonist’s dialogue. Oh, wait. I’m the protagonist, aren’t I? You’re just a secondary element, floating around and describing every action I make. Am I possessed?”

_What?_

“Am I possessed?”

_I guess you can say that. I am attached to your soul. I’m attached until your soul times out and another appears. Since you have the power to save and reset, it is safe to assume that we’ll in this situation for quite a while._

You swore and clenched your teeth, “When I get back above ground, I’m getting a terribly painful exorcism.”

And with that, you pressed the Reset button and the world rewound.

You awoke in the patch of buttercups. Your pent-up frustration from talking to me suddenly made itself known. You held back a scream through clenched teeth and kicked your feet against the ground, crushing the smaller buttercups into a pulpy mess. You rose and marched through the darkness. Your sight was becoming accustomed to the inky blackness.

You proceeded to the next room where the little flower turned to you with a shocked look. You stepped up to it and lifted your foot as high as you could. No, you need to be a good person! You have to spare him! You smirked as you brought your foot down.

The flower screeched as you continuously trampled it. Over and over you pounded it into the dirt before the pale yellow oil from the flower’s body smeared up against your cheek. It was just a pulpy mess. With your frustration depleted, you breathed in and out calmly. You fell to the grass and lied down. The sun was shining on your face. You could feel its warmth. You reached up towards it, your arm outstretched. Determination flooded through your body as you summoned the little red rectangular Reset button. You licked your lips, pressed it, and laughed as the world rewound.

You woke up to the animated flower glaring at you in disgust, “Do you get a thrill out of this?”

You smirked. The flower could remember everything. “You killed me first. Had you spared me, perhaps I’d spare you.”

“You’re sick,” The flower concluded, turning away from you. “I know you aren’t Chara now. Chara would never attack anyone. Chara’s gone and all our hope has been placed on a demented child like you who has the ability to manipulate time and space! God, we’re in such a wonderful world, aren’t we?”

You did not appreciate sarcasm. “I could always kill you and not Reset if it helps you change your tone.”

The flower swallowed audibly. You had decided that it was a male, considering his voice. “Maybe it would be best if we forgot about everything that just happened and start from the beginning.  Howdy, I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower. Welcome to the Underground. You’re new around here, so I better teach you a few things—”

You were killed by a creature that called itself Flowey the Flower. Don’t you feel pathetic? Flowey, seemed oblivious to you mocking him. Instead, he cut himself off and looked from left to right. A constant surveillance of your surroundings.

“—But not here. We can’t stay here for long,” Flowey stated, his petals shaking. “It isn’t safe. We’re too close to _her_. All you need to know is that this place is inhabited by monsters who won’t hesitate to skin you alive.”

“Who? Monsters? Skin me alive?”

He tutted and his petals rustled, “Hopefully, you won’t have to find out. I can’t answer all these freaking questions right now!”

You walked ahead without questioning him and Flowey screeched angrily, “Hey, what about me?”

“I made the decision to spare you this time. That doesn’t mean you get to join me.” You growled. Flowey popped out of the ground next you.

“Please, I’ll be useful to you! You can’t leave me here!” His eyes went wide and he warily ducked his head. “I’ll be killed.”

That thought seemed to strike your fancy. “As long as it isn’t me killing you, I should be fine. I’ll be sticking to the terms of our agreement.”

The flower’s voice was breathy and his words were quick, “Human, I’d do anything!”

You hunched down to the flower’s level and smirked when it seemed to lean away from you. “I’ll bring you with me and you will follow my every command. If you outlast your usefulness, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

The flower seemed to shrink under your gaze. You grinned, careful to show your canines. You reached out your arm to the flower who seemed to release a breath he was holding.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Giving you somewhere to hang off of. I understand that you can uproot yourself. Attach yourself to my arm. It’ll be faster than you popping around everywhere. What if I stepped on you by mistake?” You laughed cheerily.

Flowey grumbled but uprooted himself and wrapped his stem and roots around your arm. They were so long that they extended until your shoulder. “Doesn’t sound like it would be a mistake when you laugh like that.”

Flowey’s presence on your arm was a whole new burden to this interesting adventure. Not only would you have to keep yourself safe, but this little botanist’s wet dream as well. Your mouth twitched at its upturned corner. The sound of approaching footsteps put you and Flowey on edge.

“Oh no, oh no.” He muttered, glancing between you and the darkness ahead. “Try and find a place to hide!”

“Are you in the same place as I am? It’s a clearing, open space. There is nowhere to hide!”

“Shit!” The flower hissed as it hid under the arm of your sweater. You shivered as the flower climbed up your arm and rested against your shoulder blade. The footsteps got louder and louder until it seemed like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest.

“Hello? Is someone there?” A regal sounding voice called before a large figure came into the clearing. “Oh my, a human child.”

The woman came forward and you were surprised to see that she was around nine feet tall, had horns, was covered in white fur, and had glowing yellow eyes with red pupils. Her words seemed to flow with the emotional disassociation skill of a professional surgeon; she owned a keen ability to announce the death of a loved one without remorse for the victim’s family. Her blood colored pupils zoomed around the patch of buttercups, searching for a third party that didn’t seem to be present. Flowey seemed to coil himself tighter around your shoulder. He was cutting off your circulation. You could feel the pressure building up but you couldn’t say anything without alerting this newcomer to his presence. Something told you that they weren’t on the best terms. Another thing told you that she would not hesitate to chop off your arm in order to kill the weed.

“My name is Toriel,” she said as a small, guarded smile appeared on her face. “I am known as the keeper of the Ruins.”

You suspected that motherly figures seemed to bring out the worst in you since you kept your mouth shut tightly. Toriel didn’t seem incredibly bothered by your silence. Instead, she made her way forward through the narrow passageways of the cavern.

“Follow along if you wish to find sanctuary, my child. You could always risk venturing out in the dark, if you wish,” she added. “Alone, confused, and at a complete disadvantage.”

Her voice trailed off with that thought as she traveled further and further away. Once she was far enough, Flowey slipped out from under your collar and shook his head.

“We cannot follow her,” he rasped.

“I do think she’s right,” you muttered. “It would be best to stay the night and consider other ideas tomorrow.”

“Are you crazy?” He gasped. “There’s no way that I’m going in there!”

“Then you can stay outside and brave the cold.”

He hissed as you started to untangle him from your arm. You grunted as he just seemed to constrict your arm a little tighter.

“It’s one or the other!” You declared. “Either way, I’m going to go inside, get some food, some sleep, and come out as fresh as a daisy! I could always add a third option. Let’s call it, ‘weed whacking’.”

You pulled the flower from his perch and placed him at your feet. He rooted and watched as you walked off after Toriel, a spring in your step as you thought of food and shelter. You heard the flower’s broken mutterings from behind you.

“Once she has you, she won’t let you escape. Don’t eat the pie.”

With that, he was swallowed into the earth as the cavern was as idle as before. The few things you could hear were the deafening sounds of your footsteps and the occasional sound of dripping water. The cavern paved way to purple bricked walls and a pair of stone staircases designed in the shape of a horseshoe. You walked towards the staircases but stopped at the appearance of a glowing light. It wasn’t bright enough to make you avert your eyes but it did catch your attention. You approached it with uncertainty.

_Touch it_ , I urged you forward as your hand made contact with the glowing object. Suddenly, the Void appeared before you. _This is one of many areas where you can save your progress. Do so at your own risk. If you’ve made a mistake before this point and you overwrite your previous Save, you will not be able to turn back unless you make a True Reset. A True Reset will bring you back to the beginning of your journey._

You nodded contemplatively but overwrote your file. _(The Shadow of the ruins looms above, filling you with Determination.)_ Then, silence flooded back into the hall and The Void faded. A patch of red roses bloomed inside the middle of the horseshoe. You chose the left side of the staircase and ascended. A feeling of dread rose in you like bile but you swallowed this ill feeling and continued towards the next room.

A flash of white caught your attention and you spun on your heel to get a better look. An unanticipated hit made contact with your right temple and your vision misted over. You toppled to the ground. A lifeless doll.

Blasts of pain blared in your skull causing you to groan as you awoke. You blinked continuously to rid yourself of the cloudiness that accumulated in your vision but it seemed to encompass every corner of your sight. You started to panic, inhaling shaky breaths and releasing them quickly.

“Relax, my child. The pain will fade,” Murmured a voice but the hit had managed to disorient you so much that you were hearing an echo of the voice in your right eardrum.

You grunted in pain, trying to hush the voice. It didn’t seem to get the hint, “I am going out for a few hours so please remain in bed. I will be back soon.”

The door creaked open and slowly shut. You shifted your arms in order to sit up but a sudden fit of dizziness prompted you to lie back down and take your time instead.  A few tries and some mild cussing fits later, you were sitting up and trying to focus on the walls of the room you were in. They were a dark orange but the furnishings of the room were indistinguishable blurs. You rubbed your eyes. When you opened them again, the room was less blurry.

You removed the bedspread from your body and dropped your bare feet to the hardwood floor. Your vision was unreliable at best so you decided to rely on your sense of touch. You felt various pieces of furniture as you guided yourself along the walls of the room. This included a wardrobe, a shelving unit with an array of books and a photo frame, and a chest filled with shoes and boots. Once you found the door, you opened it and made your way into the hall. The hall was a bright, festive yellow. You scrunched your toes to feel the way the fabric of the carpet slipped between them. The home seemed cozy.

A little sound from the window in the hall caught your attention. It was as if someone was knocking on the frame. You rushed over and felt for the frame, pulling it up.

“Golly, how long were you going to sleep and worry the hell out of me?” The childlike voice of your flowery companion hissed angrily. “Need I remind you that you are my only hope out of this terrible place?”

“Flowey? What are you doing here?” You groaned as the little flower hoisted himself over the window frame so you could see his tattered petals. At least your echoed hearing had faded.

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here. I’m here to get you out,” He whistled. “This place certainly has changed.”

“How would you know?”

“Not your problem. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’, that’s how the old saying goes. You need to leave now. Can you get through this window?”

The window was far too long and thin to snake your way through. You told this to Flowey and from the sound of his voice, he seemed to snarl. He finally suggested that you should try the doors and see if Toriel locked them. He seemed to realize that if he tried to order you to do something, you probably wouldn’t do it. It was all part of your oppositional defiance disorder shtick. You kept your fingers trailing along the wall until you reached a point where the wall changed into a door frame. You turned to the wooden door and groped for its knob. Once it was found, you twisted and tried to open the door but it was locked. Flowey spoke up from the other side.

“All the doors in Toriel’s home are opened by a single key. A skeleton key. She takes it with her everywhere she goes. This house was built a long time ago so it’s obvious that she doesn’t own mechanism locks. She locked it from the outside when she left. Is something baking?”

Now that he mentioned it, there was a wonderful smell emanating from further down the hallway. The flower cursed as you rushed further down the hall. You passed what seemed to be a living room on your way to the kitchen. The oven was on. Inside it was a single pie. Your mouth watered.

“Kid!” Flowey called from outside. “Remember my advice! Don’t eat the pie! She’s almost home! You have to go back where she put you!”

Your breathing hitched as you ran back through the living room and felt along the opposite wall. Once you found a doorknob, you twisted and wrenched the door open. Familiar orange walls greeted you. You briskly marched in and took your place under the covers. You gasped and sat up, immediately realizing your mistake. You hadn’t closed the window in the hall.

It was too late now, the front door was rattling open. You settled into bed and hoped for the best. You could hear Toriel before you saw her. Her loud footsteps reverberated through the entire home. Your heart thundered in your chest. You pretended to be asleep and she opened the door slowly. As if not to disturb your slumber. She had obviously seen the window, she had walked right past it! There was no way to get by it! She was probably questioning herself as she strode in.

“My child,” She whispered feverishly. “Did you slip out of bed? Were you trying to escape? I put in a lot of trouble to get you here unharmed. I cannot let you get away so easily.”

She stood quickly and walked off for a few moments before hastily returning to the room. She walked towards your prone form and gently brushed away your bangs from your forehead. She sighed and lifted her arm away only to replace it with a pillow. She pressed the pillow down, blocking your airway. She pinned you down with one furry arm to restrict your struggling. Your legs kicked out beneath you uselessly. As you started to panic, you started to hyperventilate. Your body needed more oxygen in order to keep up with your panicked state. With the constant expelling of breath and the restriction of oxygen, you started to slowly lose consciousness. Your struggling limbs fell to the bed without resistance.

Toriel wasn’t in the room when you regained consciousness. However, here was a slice of pie on your bedside table. You needed to get out of there and fast. You sat up and tried to pull your hands up to your face but you were restrained to the bed frame. Steel handcuffs kept you in place. They gave you enough room to sit up but not much else. You struggled against your bounds for a few moments before understanding that it was futile. Toriel had you where she wanted you and that was where you would stay.

Then, you had an epiphany. You could reload the Save file you had made after meeting Toriel! It was so simple! Why hadn’t you thought of that before? Before you could muster up the Determination needed to summon the Reset button, Toriel opened the door and let herself in.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she murmured with surprise.  You watched her like a mouse would watch a hungry cat, wide-eyed and ready to bolt at any second. It seemed just your luck that you were trapped in a room with the hungry cat. “Are you hungry?”

You sat in a stunned silence. She took the piece of pie and held it out towards you.

“It’s freshly baked. My specialty. I even threw in a secret ingredient for you to enjoy.” Flowey’s advice flooded back into your mind. You shook your head cautiously. Toriel seemed offended by your refusal. She took the plate into one large paw and held the fork with the other. She cut off a piece with the side of the utensil before piercing it. Then, she brought the piece over to your tightly shut mouth. “Open up.”

Your eyes flooded with determination and you shook your head rebelliously. Toriel stared at you furiously. She pinched your nose and held it until your mouth opened to breathe and then she stuffed the pie in and watched you cough. She placed a hand over your mouth to get you to swallow. Your taste buds were repulsed as soon as you began chewing the pastry. Bile rose in your throat and you gagged against Toriel’s hand but she only increased the pressure. You forced yourself to swallow the piece. It tasted bittersweet, as if thick ash had coated your tongue and rendered you incapable of separating the normally sugary dessert from the acrid aftertaste.

You glared at the woman and breathed raggedly, “What’s in this?”

She smirked, “Butterscotch, cinnamon, a crust infused with monster dust.”

The last ingredient made your stomach churn. “What is that?”

She smiled. A smile as saccharine as the pie’s filling and as biting as the crust. “When monsters are killed, they turn to dust.”

Your glare fell from your face, completely changed into a look of pure disgust. A shiver passed over your spine as you gazed over to the pie in her lap. Her bright yellow eyes were wide with excitement and a nervous grin split her cheeks. She laughed. “It’s quite comical actually! Your reaction was completely expected!”

You wiped your tongue off with your sweater, trying to rid yourself of the ashes of the dead monster. As you did this, she took her leave, laughing as she walked down the hall.

You quickly mustered up the Determination necessary to see the Reset button and summoned it. You resisted the urge to throw up as the world rewound. You opened your eyes at the foot of the staircases leading to the Ruins. You fell to the ground in a heap of unease. Flowey appeared by your side.

“I can say a lot of things,” you laughed warily, “but I try not to eat dead people. That’s pretty fucked up.”

“You’re back in the past. It hasn’t happened yet, just avoid the outcome and create a new one. If you can’t make it through this one, let’s say Toriel is pretty tame on the homicidal scale compared to the other monsters in store for you.”

“Yeah, I’m going to find another outcome,” You promised, a dark grin overcoming your unease. “Let’s just say it might get a little messy getting to the right outcome.”

“I wish you luck,” The flower sighed as he dug back into the ground. You made your way through the narrow passageway.

Once you saw the flash of white fur, you ducked towards the left, narrowly avoiding the book that had knocked you out the first time. You jumped back, fending off the next attempt. Toriel drew back, dropped the book, and tipped her head back with laughter.

“I was trying to avoid this, my child, but you stubbornly refuse my advances. All I want to do is protect you!”

“You have a weird way of showing it, Lady.” You growled as she removed a butcher’s knife from the pocket of her robe. The red light erupted from your chest once again.

She scowled and lunged forward, gripping the knife with certainty. You dodged the blow and tried to land one of your own but Toriel was fast for her stature.  She drew back and, to your surprise, conjured up seven balls of fire. Toriel released them in a strategic fashion, aiming the first one at you while the next ones were released where you would be after you dodged the first hit. This continued for each strike until you got sloppy, barely dodging one attack and suffering a direct hit from the next. You blocked the hit with your arm.

You screamed as your skin began to blister and char. You were so enraptured by your injury that you didn’t anticipate Toriel’s next move. She rushed forward and sank the knife into your chest with such vigor that she may have torn your stomach in half. You blacked out after that but Flowey had filled you in. The unlucky flower had watched Toriel skin you, slice you up, bring some of the meatier pieces home, grind you up in an industrial meat grinder, and bake you into a meat pie.

You now found yourself back in The Void. 

_So,_ I started after clearing my throat. _Now that you have a full idea on how a fight works, let me explain all the details. As I have told you earlier, you have a red soul like mine. You literally where it on your sleeve for any monster to see. During battles, monsters summon your soul and you can see its manifestation over your real heart. You take physical damage during battles and when you are killed, your soul will be taken._

“So everyone wants to kill me,” you summarized as I hesitated.

_Please don’t blame them. They really are just misguided creatures. Once they see that they have alternative choices, they will pick those! They need your soul in order to return to the Surface. Above, where every human thrives. They just want to bask in the sun again. Please, don’t kill her. Find a peaceful way around. I broke her heart once and, after that, she just wasn’t the same. She became colder and more desperate to keep her children._

You seemed to understand that I was speaking about Toriel, you tutted. “I make my own choices. I’m not just your carrier! I have ideas of my own!”

_Soon my thoughts will become yours too. Like I said earlier, we have very similar souls. It may be possible that you will one day carry my times in the Underground on your shoulders as well. Maybe you will have visions of a timeline where you haven’t existed yet, Frisk._

“We’ll get there when we get there. You aren’t me. You cannot tell me what I can or can’t do.”

_That’s true,_ I sighed. _I can only hope that you will make the right decisions._

In the midst of another bout of frustration and ill-comprehension, you jabbed at the Reset button.

“What’s your brilliant plan now?” Flowey asked as you returned. “You going to try again? I got you a weapon!”

That caught your attention. Flowey tossed you a large stick. “Seriously? How do you expect me to protect myself with this?”

“It’s better than your bare hands,” he commented dryly as you begrudgingly accepted his makeshift weapon.

You tried to fight Toriel with the stick but it didn’t go over as planned. Instead it ended in quite a similar manner. You were prepared for the fire magic but Toriel had burned the stick while you held it, causing you to drop the stick and slow your dodging. Flowey waited for you just as he had before.

“I have one last idea,” You proposed, marching up the stairs. Flowey watched you hopelessly.

Upon reaching the narrow passageway, you called out, much to your dismay. “Toriel? I’m scared. Help me, please.”

A large furry paw was placed onto your shoulder. You glanced up at Toriel, who looked down at you with pity in her oddly colored eyes, “Come, my child. I will bring you to my home.”

She picked you up into her arms and carried you. You noticed that smaller monsters cowered and hid when Toriel crossed their path. This aided your cause since you wouldn’t be attacked. You saw Flowey every now and then, following you both to the house. At the foot of the house was a glowing Save Point. Toriel set you down and went inside ahead of you, allowing you to go and save your progress. _(Seeing such a cute, tidy home in the Ruins gives you Determination.)_

You entertained Toriel’s mothering tendencies for four days. You went to bed when you were told, you woke up when you were told. You kept yourself clean and kept your room neat. You explored the Ruins with Toriel every day and stayed away from the basement. You also made sure to keep at least five steps between yourself and the stove top and oven, a new phobia having developed after hearing Flowey’s recollection of you being baked into a pie.

The fifth day started like any other. You woke up an hour later than she did, got dressed, and ate breakfast with her. She avoided pie, by your request. You both went out to rake some of the red leaves that had fallen from the tree outside. Then, she told you that she needed to go out and run some errands. Probably to get some more food and clothes for you. She had given you a black sweater with a single red stripe through the middle of it and a hand-knitted gray scarf. You stored your other sweater in a backpack that she allowed you to keep. It had been in your bedroom. Whenever Flowey saw you in that sweater or wearing that backpack, he wouldn’t look at you.

“You look too much like Chara,” He had told you in confidence.

On the fifth afternoon, you realized that you enjoyed drawing in the living room, close to the fire. You enjoyed Toriel’s home, you enjoyed her mothering nature, you enjoyed the room, and you enjoyed Flowey’s presence. You realized that you were growing _soft_. _You_ didn’t enjoy cozy homes and tight knit families! You had ruined yours long ago! _Your_ hatred of the motherly instinct caused you to torture your mother for the whole of your childhood. _You_ hated being cooped up in small spaces. _You_ hated that little flower.

On the fifth afternoon, you snapped.

You waited at the front door until Toriel came home, drawing up a new murderous plan on red cardboard paper. When she entered, she was startled by the sudden apparition of your big, maroon eyes and giant smile.

“Mommy? Can you tell me where the knives are?”

 

 

 


	3. The Careful Medium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, you opened the cabinet and stared at the knives that gleamed threateningly in the dark. The whole knife rack was carefully arranged but none of the blades seemed to catch your attention. You bit your lip and moved the knife rack carefully. Concealed underneath it was a butcher knife. It wasn’t exactly the most sharpened knife but something about it caught your eye. You held it in your hand, testing its weight. The handle was heavy and it sat in your hand comfortably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: All the previous ones, Poisoning, Flower Abuse, and so on.

“Mommy, where are the knives?”

Toriel’s eyes grew tense. Her eyes flitted around, her pupils darting from one end of her peripheral vision to the other. Even her fingers were getting twitchy. “Why would you need one?”

You held up a well-used wax crayon. The point had been shaved down to a blunt, straight edge. “You don’t have a sharpener.”

Toriel gasped and nodded. “I will go get one right away! But you are a child. As your guardian, I will handle and sharpen the crayon!”

You only needed to know where they were. You followed Toriel as she hurried into the kitchen. You were right on her tail, watching her every move. Toriel was smart and overly cautious. You knew better than to assume that the _real_ knives would be found in the utensil drawer. You were proven correct when Toriel started to rummage through the cabinet above the counter. She pulled out a standard steak knife and turned to you.

“Can I have the crayon?” She asked you, bending down to look you in the eyes.

You were seething. You hated people making you feel small. By bending down to your level, she was making you feel _inadequate_. You would be bending down to tend to her dust soon. You gritted your teeth behind your tight-lipped smile and clenched your hands by your side. You handed her the crayon as delicately as you could. Silently, you glared up at her until she completed the job.

When she finished, she held up the wax crayon in her burly, white paw. You snatched it away and returned to the living room where you quickly hid your violent drawings in the waistband of your shorts and tugged your sweater far over your waist to cover them. Then, you marched into your room and shut your door. On the edge of your bed was a large boot that you had found amongst the collection in the chest that sat against your bedroom wall. You had found this boot for Flowey to take root in but he still refused to go inside of the house.

You ate your dinner with Toriel a few hours later. She told you of her errand run and all the monsters she had come across. You weren’t allowed to leave Toriel’s house and explore the Ruins. Toriel had made sure that you knew every rule of the house. The basement was completely off-limits, though you had been itching to discover what was hidden down there for quite a while. For the last four days you had been building her trust, trying to ease her into a passive state. You willed her to make a mistake in her meticulous trapping of you but none had yet to be seen. You were to stay within the confines of the house at all times. Any disregard of this rule, no matter how slight, would conclude with serious consequences.

You were to remain in your room at night; however, Toriel was lenient with this rule. If you told her that you had a bad dream, she would anxiously coddle you until you fell asleep on her lap. I use the word ‘anxiously’ because her mannerisms during her coddling seem inexperienced, amateurish, and forced. Still, you endured the odd treatment.

After dinner, you retired to bed. Toriel seemed slightly surprised by the earliness but didn’t complain as she watched your door close with a click. Once in your room, you pulled the sheets back from your made bed and tucked yourself in. Toriel didn’t tuck you in herself. Her thoughts seemed to drift aimlessly away from you when she did so. She had a child once before, you understood that from the pictures hanging in the walls of the home. The face of the child had been cut out of every photo but after comparing their physical similarities, you surmised that the child must have abandoned Toriel or died.

You could hear the sound of Toriel’s nails clicking down into the basement. You didn’t move until you heard the sound of muffled laughter. You needed to get Flowey’s attention. You untucked yourself with a grunt and went out into the hall, stopping in front of the thin window. You pulled it open and Flowey appeared in the garden. His eyes shifted nervously.

“What do you want? You know I don’t like to be out in the open,” He started. You grimaced.

“I need your help. You need to get the Save Point over here.”

“The Save Point?” He parroted. “Can I even move that thing?”

You nodded. If you could touch it, you assumed that other people could touch it as well. It wasn’t exactly harmful.

“What if I spontaneously combust or something?” The gleeful laugh that acted as a response to the concerned comment was met with a sigh from the flower. “Oh yeah, I forgot that you get off on that sort of thing.”

“Just bring it over here!” You ordered as the flower turned and disappeared into the ground.

He reappeared two minutes later, unrooted. He was dragging the Save Point behind him with one outstretched root. “Damn, these things are heavy.”

“You’re just a wimp.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m a flower. I don’t have very much upper body strength!”

“Hoist it up!” You demanded as the flower groaned. He wrapped four roots around the glowing object and lifted it towards the window. You reached out and touched the Save Point, overwriting your previous Save. _(Knowing that your plan is about to unfold fills you with Determination.)_

The Save Point fell to the ground with a clunk and Flowey moved his roots as you would move your fingers after a session of free weights. You looked at him expectantly and he growled out a short sentence, “I’ll bring it back.”

As he pulled it back, you returned to your room and twisted yourself back into the sheets on your bed. Once you were comfortable, your eyes fluttered shut.

You awoke suddenly. Your dreams had been plagued with thoughts of murdering Toriel. In every dream state, you would drive a knife into her chest and watch as her body exploded into dust. Not a peaceful mist of dust but a violent wave that coated your skin and clothes in a dull gray. Your body was enveloped in a cold sweat. You wiped yourself off with your sheets and got to your feet.

You padded over to the door and pulled it open quietly. You softly tip-toed out into the hall. From here, you could hear Toriel’s snores coming from her room. You nodded to yourself and continued down the hall. Navigating through the dark was becoming easier and easier for you. It also helped that you knew the exact layout of the house, with the exception of the basement. You walked into the kitchen and pulled yourself up onto the counter. You sat up on your knees and glanced at the cabinet. You were surprised to see a combination lock. It was a standard combination lock with a ‘U’ shaped shackle and a dial on the body with faded numbers. It was well-used. You could tell because the movements of the dial would stutter and the numbers were fading.

You took the lock in your hand and pulled up gently on the shackle. Then, you tested if you could move the dial while you held the shackle in place. Too much pressure on the shackle will make the dial impossible to turn but too little will make the dial spin freely. Applying gentle pressure will allow the lock to move and stop at the right numbers. You turned the dial clockwise until you met a bit of resistance at the number forty-two. Since the resistance is met before the actual number present in the combination, you add five to the number you land on. You reset the lock by passing zero a few times before entering forty-seven in as the first number of the combination.

Maintaining the same pressure, you turn around the mechanism once counter-clockwise. You continued in the same direction before the dial stopped at twenty-three. To find the final number, you reset the lock, entered the first two numbers and tested the possible combinations. The lock clicked open after the number ten. You smirked as you removed the lock and set it down on the counter. Finally, you opened the cabinet and stared at the knives that gleamed threateningly in the dark. The whole knife rack was carefully arranged but none of the blades seemed to catch your attention. You bit your lip and moved the knife rack carefully. Concealed underneath it was a butcher knife. It wasn’t exactly the most sharpened knife but something about it caught your eye. You held it in your hand, testing its weight. The handle was heavy and it sat in your hand comfortably.

You closed the cabinet and locked the lock. Then, you started the slow trek to Toriel’s room. You stopped at her bedroom door and considered your next actions carefully. At least you saved your progress. You twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open.

Toriel’s room was terribly tidy. In fact, it was almost too tidy. It was like she was trying to hide something. The room, like everything else in the home, was overwhelming. It was too warm, too cozy, and too breathtakingly earnest that something had to be amiss. It was stifling. There’s an old saying that your mother often told you, “The state of your room reflects the state of your mind.” If this was Toriel’s room, one could only assume that this persona she had created was oppressive.

You walked over to her prone form. Even her dark blue sheets, which matched the wallpaper, were starched. You lifted the knife and, for a short second, you wondered if it would do the trick. Was it even sharp enough? Had you made a mistake? You shook your head to clear your thoughts and ran the knife across her cheek. She whimpered in her sleep and an ash gray substance oozed from the wound. You knew Toriel wasn’t a deep sleeper. You wanted her eyes to flutter open when you ended her life. When they did, you smiled and rammed the knife into her abdomen and sliced through until it burst out from her right side, right under her bottom rib.

Her eyes widened and tears accumulated at the corners of her eyes. Her breath came out in ragged gasps and her voice hitched, “Y-You…really hate me…don’t you?”

Just like that, her body slowly fell apart. In her place was a mound of dust. You stepped back, horrified. You blinked down at what remained of her and burst into tears. You dropped the knife and fell to your knees. With a cry, you turned away from her and tried to console yourself. The outburst was unprecedented. This was what you wanted! Why were you crying? Your unforeseen tantrum was frightening you. Why was this happening?

“Mommy, it _hurts_.” You sobbed and covered your eyes with the nook of your elbow.

You had never felt something akin to this. This was a fire burning through your very being. It started in the pit of your stomach and expanded. An unwatched fire was always a dangerous one. You hiccupped and whimpered as the fire seethed and crackled. You were beginning to feel lightheaded. Your vision was failing you. Still, you managed to pull yourself back on your feet and collapse on Toriel’s bed. You slept, curled in her ashes as if they were a makeshift blanket.

 

“Chara!” A young male voice called, disrupting your rest. “Wake up, you pathetic worm! You’ve been latched on me for hours! You know I hate cuddling!”

After a particularly rough shake of your shoulder, you opened your eyes and stared down at the young goat-like monster you had pulled into your chest. “Finally, human. Let me go! I am the most horrible monster that ever lived! I, the God of Hyperdeath, have no desire to be manhandled by a fleshy bodied creature such as yourself!”

“You’re way too loud in the morning, Asriel,” You found yourself groaning. This wasn’t your voice. You didn’t know him! I know him!

You unwrapped your arms from his body as he bristled, the fur on his neck rising. “If _you_ were waking up with your morning breath stuck in your nose, you’d be loud too!”

“Alright, Tiny God, say what you like!”

“I am not tiny! You insolent, little—”

“Asriel, hold your tongue,” Toriel scolded as she walked through the door. A playful smile on her lips. Asriel scowled and hung his head while you lifted yours. Toriel walked over and nuzzled her cheek against your own. “This human has been injured by your hand! I expect you to show a little more humility!”

“You’d punch them too if they insulted you like they insulted me, Mama!”

Toriel rolled her eyes, “No I would not, my child. I would tell them that I was offended by what they said and I would ask for an apology.”

Asriel scoffed, “That’s not what you said before the human came.”

Toriel glanced down at you and flashed you a smile. Her son grumbled behind her. “Asriel may be impatient, but he is kind at heart.”

“I bet there’s kindness deep inside his heart,” You agreed with a sigh. “Deep, deep down.”

Your antics seemed to amuse the mother for she gave a hearty chuckle before getting to her feet. “I am making a snail pie for lunch, is everyone hungry?”

“It’s lunch already?” You gasped as Asriel nodded.

“Golly Gee, you’ve been out for seventeen hours! I was clutched to your chest for nearly seven of them! I had to miss breakfast.”

He hated to miss breakfast. He always insisted to me that it was the most important meal of the day. You hopped out of bed and pulled your wardrobe open. Toriel had just had it made. You pulled out Asriel’s red and black striped sweater and pulled it over your head. It was too small for him but you were lanky enough to slide right into it. You ran out into the hall and turned to the left, stopping in front of the large mirror fastened against the wall to straighten yourself out. You ran your hands through your short brown hair, ridding it of any knots. Then, you reached your hand out and placed it against the cool glass before sighing and blowing an errant hair away from your forehead.

Your ruby eyes struck you as odd but you ignored the nagging feeling that your eyes were maroon.

You ran down the hall, your speed accentuated by your socked feet. You slid into the kitchen and watched Toriel cut the slices of pie while Asriel slowly made his way into view. As he passed you, he grabbed your cheek and pulled, causing you to yelp.

“Humans shouldn’t have this weak armor of flesh. It doesn’t help you at all! It bruises, scars easily, why would you even want it? You’re so low on the evolutionary scale.”

You tutted and turned away from him. “Are we going to go outside today and explore the Ruins, Mommy?”

Toriel paused in her cutting and she started to tear up, “Mommy?”

You gasped, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! It was a slip of the—”

Toriel hugged you tightly, startling you into a shocked silence. “It’s alright, my child. I would be happy to be your mother.”

Your grin widened and you laughed sincerely. Toriel had grown to be a surrogate mother to me while I was in the Underground. She protected me from any monsters with ill-intentions, allowed me to explore the Ruins, and she even read stories to me when I couldn’t sleep. Asriel was a heavy sleeper and it didn’t take much to get the boy snoring. However, I was constantly wracked with homesickness and nightmarish visions of nefarious monsters. She would hear my cries and hurry to comfort me with a new book in hand. Then, she would read until I fell asleep and even then, she would remain by my side until morning.

You sighed contentedly as Asriel grabbed his plate of pie and sat on the floor in the living area. You followed his lead and stuck out your tongue when he tried to grip your cheek again. You didn’t see Toriel’s smile falter, only to be replaced by an agitated grin.

 

The fire had faded once you awoke, shaking your head to rid yourself of the memory you had just experienced. You weren’t me but the similarities between you and I were almost otherworldly. You hastily climbed out of bed and ran out into the hall, placing your hand on the glass of the mirror just like I had.

You looked at your reflection with disgust. Your eyes were swollen and tear tracks stained your cheeks a dull red. Your face was sickeningly pale and plastered with Toriel’s dust. You had slept with your cheek against the mound of thick, gray dust, knowingly coating your hair and neck in it. Despite everything, it’s still you, your reflection whispered mockingly. The similarities between you and I were skin deep. The happiness that you had felt in my memory didn’t apply to you. You were an outsider viewing the memory as it happened when I was alive and in the Underground. Your memories were not happy ones.

Perhaps this was because you were never a happy child. You could live without your mother and father, you could live without the doctors and specialists breathing down your neck, you could live without phony friends or lovers. It wasn’t necessary to you. Causing these people to suffer brought you more joy than allowing these people to live their merry lives. Sentimentality wasn’t your thing.

Still, your heart couldn’t bear the thought of killing Toriel. Regret was something that was foreign to you. You never regretted your past decisions. You didn’t even bat an eye after causing your sister to lose her eye, your mother to be removed from your family completely, or turning your father into a raging alcoholic. They were just a means to an end. Your end. Whatever that may be. You had never had such an uncontrollable outburst concerning such a decision. You didn’t care about Toriel, you couldn’t be bothered by how she saw you.

You decided that killing Toriel and viewing my memory of her were two interconnected occurrences. It wasn’t just a coincidence. It was far too suspicious! With that in mind, you summoned up enough Determination and pressed the Reset button.

“What did you do?” You asked venomously as you entered the Void. I chuckled sympathetically.

_I guess I couldn’t keep you from viewing my memories of the Underground. It just shows how alike our souls are. Maybe we share a common lineage._

“Who cares?” You laughed joylessly. “I want my mind back! I want my thoughts back! You’re ruining everything!”

_I haven’t done anything. You just want to use me as some sort of scapegoat. It isn’t my fault that you’re being encompassed by my memories and feelings. That wasn’t my intention. This has never happened before._

You pushed your bangs out of your face in your frustration and growled, “How do I make it stop?”

_Make what stop?_

“Make the pain stop! I never want to feel that way again!” You bellowed and I smiled.

_I assume that the only way to avoid messing with my emotional being and your own is to find a careful medium between them. You’ve tried…killing Toriel but that initiated the leak of my emotions into yours, causing that meltdown you had earlier. You’ve also tried being empathetic with Toriel and remaining with her, but that seems to cause your anger to peak. We need to find a middle ground that can please both of our spirits._

You gasped excitedly, “I think I have the perfect plan!”

_Wait, Frisk! You need to consider your actions wisely! If our emotional states merge together, we may be stuck like this forever!_

The world twisted and turned as you returned to consciousness. Flowey was staring up at you, an unimpressed look raging in his dark eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, shrub.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his leaves, “I’m not a shrub. Shrubs are woody plants, characterized by their many stems near the ground. I am a flower.”

Now it was your turn to fix an unamused glare on Flowey’s round head. You reached your hands out towards the ground and the three-foot-tall flower’s eyes narrowed. “Come here, Flowey.”

He shook his head violently. “Nope! I know exactly when I shouldn’t go near a volatile human! Now is one of those times!”

“Flowey!” You sneered, your tone of voice sounding more like a serpent’s hiss. “You better slither on over here and do what I tell you to do! That was our deal, wasn’t it? I could always drop you like the dead weight you are!”

The flower tutted and unrooted itself, hesitantly appearing below the ridge of the window. “What is it?”

You smiled softly and touched the flower’s petals. They were glossy and hopelessly bright. Flowey wouldn’t camouflage well unless he was among his kind. You were slightly roused by the idea that Toriel hadn’t found the talking flower as of yet. You knew that Toriel had seen your flowery companion before. She was one of the monsters that had caused Flowey to Reset when he had the ability to. Just as he had mentioned to you when you first met.  He didn’t need to tell you explicitly that Toriel was one of the culprits for his attitude when he was around the house spoke clearly for him.

You gripped one of the petals and tugged it right out of his little head. This caused him to scream uncontrollably for around a minute. Then, he whimpered and whined as you collected the yellow oil carefully on the petal.

“Why did—why would you r-rip out my petal?” He sobbed as you placed the petal on the ledge. He paled considerably. “You’re going to feed it to her.”

You nodded, genuinely pleased that Flowey realized your plan so quickly. “I won’t give her too much, I can’t kill her.”

The flower narrowed his eyes in confusion, hunching over slightly. It was almost as if he wanted to seem threatening, even though one of his five petals had been snatched and the others were fragments of what they should’ve been.

“My petals—” he paused, looking for the right words to say. “Th-they’ll grow back, right?”

“For a regular flower, it would take about two weeks in the right conditions. Since you’re a monster, I can only estimate that it would take less time than that. Honestly, this was an experiment for me too.”

He bristled angrily and disappeared into the ground. You trusted that he would return later with a firm handle on his temperament. You walked towards the kitchen silently, hearing Toriel’s voice flooding from the basement as well as a voice you couldn’t place. Once you reached the kitchen you grabbed a fork and a bowl. You mashed the petal into a pulpy substance and heard footsteps from down the stairs.

“My child?” Toriel called, anxiety filling her voice. You hummed and quickly opened up Toriel’s fridge, adding two eggs to the pulp and mixing it up.

“Mommy? I was trying to bake you a pie!” You murmured quietly, acting as if you were caught red-handed while drawing on the walls.

Toriel’s ears twitched and she smiled fondly as she ascended the stairs. “My child, would you like any help?”

You grinned as Toriel came to help you, she took over the filling from there. She demonstrated how to make the pie crust and filling without breaking a sweat. You filed the information away in your mind. You never know when you might want some pie. You and Toriel stayed up until late, watching the pie and discussing finer points in baking.

You smiled ruefully at the fact that you needed to poison the old goat. She wasn’t a bad presence. You just needed to get out of this house. You needed to get back to the Surface. For what reason, you weren’t exactly sure. After all, there was nothing waiting for you up there.

When the pie was ready, Toriel offered you the first slice.

“I don’t want any,” you mumbled as Toriel’s brow creased. “My stomach hurts. I want to give you my slice, Mommy.”

Toriel smiled, “Oh, thank you! That’s so sweet, my dear.”

She slid her fork through the filling, pierced the morsel, and held it up to her muzzle. When she took a bite, you held your breath. She paused, hummed, and chewed thoughtfully.

“I think it could’ve used more sugar,” She decided with a wink before she proceeded to take another bite. You guessed that the cinnamon and butterscotch disguised the bitter-tasting toxin that came from Flowey’s petals. However, they did not extinguish it. Toriel helped herself to a second slice while you were deep in thought.

You just hoped that the ingredients kept the sap moist enough. You bid goodnight to Toriel and retired to your room.

A few hours later and the moaning started. Horribly loud groans sounded from Toriel’s room. She was asleep but the poison was taking full affect. You only had so much time to spare until she needed to go to the bathroom. You got up from your bed and took the knapsack that you had been using. In it, you hid the boot for Flowey, a map of the Underground that Toriel had shown you. It was from a book but you didn’t mind tearing out the pages. You packed in your wax crayons and drawings as well as your old clothes. You wrapped your gray scarf around your neck and tugged on the hem of the black and red striped sweater before setting off into the hall. You made sure to shut your door quietly behind you. You proceeded into the kitchen where you entered the combination you had learned during a previous file into the combination lock. Once inside the cabinet, you took out the old butcher’s knife hidden under the rack and some tin foil. You wrapped two slices of poisoned pie into the foil and carefully threw out the rest.

You heard Toriel’s cries getting louder but the nausea must have settled in by now, making it near impossible for her to navigate her way out into the hall. Once she retched out all of the previous contents in her stomach, she would be fine. She may have slight bowl irritation for the next day or so. She hadn’t had enough to wound herself too badly, that you knew.

You closed the cabinet before dropping the lock and the two slices of pie into your bag. You slipped the knife into the waistband of your shorts. The cold blade against your back sent a shiver up your spine but it also made you feel safer.

Then, you made your way down into the basement.

The basement was a series of long corridors that ended abruptly with you facing a rather large door. The door looked unused and even had a thick layer of dust encrusted over its ridges. However, it needed a key. You cursed and ran a hand through your hair.  You were going to go bald at this point. You looked up at some purple tapestries and sighed deeply. Would you have to go back and look for the key?

You determinedly shook your head. Toriel wouldn’t have the key on her. That method didn’t seem to work to keep me in the Ruins so Toriel would try to improve her hiding places. You leaned against one of the tapestries and thought about where you might hide a key.

“Where would I hide it?” You mumbled to yourself while fingering the tapestry. “Where would I hide it?”

Goddamn it. Look under the tapestry!

You lifted the tapestry and were surprised to see the rusted key taped to the back of it. Interiorly, you thanked your genius. I, on the other hand, tried to keep my thoughts from gearing towards more violent courses when dealing with you. You tore the key from the tapestry and inserted it into the keyhole. Once you heard the door unlock with a heavy thud, you pulled the door open and squeezed your way through the narrow opening.

You felt the cold breeze once you stepped foot into the room. It caused the old door to slam shut. The breeze made you squeeze your toes together and shiver. You could see your breath coming out in hot bursts of air in front of you.

“Human!” Flowey exclaimed from the middle of the chamber. “Glad you finally decide to join me!”

You snorted, “It’s more like you’re joining me.”

The flower kept his patronizing comments to himself just as you managed to pull the boot out of your bag. “What is that?”

“This is your substitute pot, Flowey.” You replied with a sickly-sweet tone. Flowey recoiled. “I picked it out for you myself!”

“All the more reason to stay away from it!”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered to the flower, “or I just might rip another petal off you.”

He fidgeted and asked you to put the boot down. You did as he asked and he lifted himself into the boot. It was interesting to see his roots settle into the dirt that you had packed into the boot from one of Toriel’s flower pots. One of the roots gingerly swiped your hand. You glanced at the flower curiously.

“You didn’t kill Toriel, did you?” He asked and you shook your head. He seemed relieved by this piece of information. “You do know that your hands are blistering, right?”

“That’s because I got some of your toxin on my hands. The welts will go away with time if I don’t scratch them and I won’t scratch them if you don’t bring attention to them. So, let’s ignore them!”

The flower chuckled and faced forwards as you hoisted your knapsack over your shoulder and held his boot against your chest. Afterwards, you made your way out of the Ruins. You were surprised that the rocky terrain that was under your feet gave way to snow. The snow was falling overhead in a gentle sway that reminded you of the first signs of winter back on the Surface. Flowey smacked his leaves against your hands and urged you forward, which you gladly allowed. A snow covered bush to your left caught your attention and Flowey tilted his head.

“Now, that’s a shrub,” He snickered as you rolled your eyes and kept on your path. It wasn’t the bush that you were concerned with but the camera that was hidden in it. The camera zoomed in on your person and made you slightly uncomfortable. You tried your best to keep the fact that someone was watching you out of your mind but with every camera taped to a pine’s barky surface or hidden amongst a pile of rocks, you became more and more self-conscious.

The path ahead of you was framed by snow and large pine trees. The pine trees rustled as they were disturbed by the light breeze you had experienced earlier in the cavern. You hid your blistering hands inside the scarf but hissed when the fabric made them feel more inflamed than before. You concluded that the numbing wind felt better than the burning wool.

Flowey had quickly gone quiet as you proceeded along the path. The only sound that you could hear from him was the gentle rearranging of his roots. Otherwise, everything was silent. As you walked, you saw a large stick sprawled across the path. It was large enough that you didn’t think you could carry it by yourself. With Flowey’s lack of body strength, it was safe to say that, even with his aid, you would need someone to do most of the heavy lifting. Instead, you hopped over it and laughed when Flowey nearly fell out of the boot.

“That was not funny!” He sputtered indignantly but the damage had been done. “Human! I want to get to Snowdin by midday so let’s get moving!”

“How can you even tell the time down here?” You wondered out loud. “It seems like the only times of day are dark, darker, and so dark you can’t see anything.”

Flowey tutted, “All the monsters in the Underground have interior clocks. We don’t really need to express time like humans do.”

“Is it an estimation of the correct time?”

“When Toriel and Asgore both ruled together over the Underground, they sat at the edge of the Ruins where you fell until the sun reached its lowest point in the sky. From there, we concluded that it was early morning, Midday comes when the sun is at its highest, Evening comes when the sun sets, and Night rises with the moon. After that, it was guess work.”

“Who’s Asgore?”

“Asgore, King of the Underground. Toriel was his wife. She still loves him, I think, but he left her because she showed too much mercy to the humans that fell.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Those are the rules of the Underground!” Flowey laughed heartily. “Down here, it’s a kill or be killed world.”

 “We have a saying like that on the Surface,” you answered. “It’s a dog eat dog world.”

“If you dust a lot of monsters, people will respect you. That’s the way of the Underground. It wasn’t always that way, though. Until Chara fell, I thought that fear was the only way to gain respect. They were a social chameleon, of sorts. They were able to blend in. They had convinced me that they enjoyed when I dusted other monsters. They were able to adapt to that kind of environment so easily without changing themselves in the process. They never took a life.” He paused, “It got me thinking that maybe everyone in the Underground adapted to this way of life. Perhaps, they’re all good people on the inside but circumstance gave way to the beings we see now. It gave me hope that our current reality could change.”

You smiled nostalgically and held out your hand to catch a lazily falling snowflake. “I got the same respect after pushing enough kids from my elementary school off the side of a hill. Everyone loved that little hill. Once I started climbing it, I became in charge of that little space. It became my place and they were trespassers. I would just sit on the hill for our entire recess period until someone came along and I pushed them off. Tell me; what do you think happened after a while?”

“Wouldn’t they try avoiding the hill so that they wouldn’t get pushed?”

“That’s obvious. It’s an inevitable reality. Of course the kids would stop coming over to the hill. They learned and gave the hill a negative connotation. I was asking you what happened after that.”

Flowey furrowed his brow but said nothing more. Taking this as his response, you pushed a stray hair away from your eyes and replied, “I found the next best place. The next day, I climbed to the top of the slide and pushed anyone off the jungle gym if they got too close.”

“What is this story supposed to prove?” The flower muttered, casting a glance to his and left and right side. “I already know that you get a thrill out of hurting others. My body should be a prime example of that.”

You sighed at the flower’s disregard for your analogy, “Good people aren’t the only ones who adapt to a given situation. Bad people do too. I wouldn’t stay on the hill because there was nothing to prove there anymore. I went to another place where the children swarmed. I took that place over as well. Now, what if there were many copies of me. Copies that had the same intentions as the original. If they were spread all out over the playground, the people would be trapped by their negative connotations. They would assume that because I am guarding a certain place, they shouldn’t go there.”

The flower nodded gravely and turned in his boot to look at you. “They would be trapped.”

“That’s right. When you’re only given select options in order to survive, people will do the worst of things in order to benefit themselves. One would eat their children if they had no food, another would steal a pocket watch off a dead body. All would sacrifice the less fortunate in order to save their skin. Especially if the choices were becoming slimmer and slimmer. Those children, trapped in the playground, would try and push back.”

A loud snap alerted you both of another presence. Flowey curled over himself, “Oh please, not now.”

“What do you mean? Has this happened before?” You whispered to the flower. You turned on your heel, ready to go inspect that large branch that had laid in your path moments ago but Flowey hissed and smacked your arm with an oddly arranged root.

“Don’t turn back, stupid! Keep moving forward! I’ve already tried that possibility!”

As you stared back towards the Ruins exit, you swore you saw a figure watching you on the path. This caused you to step forward uncertainly towards the being. Flowey’s eyes widened and his roots emerged from the boot. He pulled your face in the opposite direction.

“Run, you idiot!” He cried and you did as you were told. The sound of crunching snow, labored breathing, and Flowey’s mumblings were all that could be heard.

“Quickly, over to that bridge!” Flowey ordered and you stumbled.

“Hey! Who’s supposed to be giving the orders around here?” You squawked angrily.

“Until you figure out your way around, it’s my job!”

You reached the edge of the bridge and a state of paralysis overcame you as you stared at the bars before you. You couldn’t even tremble. It started as a spark of energy that flowed in from the tips of your fingers and ended as a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. Flowey tried urging you forward but from the look in his eyes, he understood this feeling. Your eyes wandered over to your chest where your red soul was glowing. What shocked you; however, was the red aura that surrounded your soul. You had never seen it before.  You heard approaching footsteps and a chuckle that reverberated from behind you. It was a low-sounding rumble from the chest that seemed to echo in your mind.

“Human. Don’t you know how to greet a new superior? Turn around and shake my hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four days without WiFi delayed this chapter a bit but I hope you enjoy!  
> Hopefully, another chapter will be posted by the end of this week!
> 
> Please comment if you wish. It makes me happy to hear from you!


	4. The Child and The Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wondered if my memories would depict Sans. You found him an interesting subject. Of course, your interest was purely clinical. You wanted to dissect him; figure out what makes him tick. You wanted to see that monster so broken down that he had no choice but to run to your open arms. You would methodically put him back together, get him to trust you. You would build him up to something much stronger than he was. You understood that Sans was grossly underestimated by most but, for some reason, you wanted to turn him into a god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied Sexual Intent, Stalking, Stealing, Traps, Plant Puns, Horrible Brothers, and the like.

You turned almost mechanically to face the intruder. You weren’t willing your body to move but the magic surrounding your soul was. It was guiding you towards the stranger. Your head lowered until you only saw the newcomer’s hand in front of you and Flowey’s petals. The flower’s face was twisted into an annoyed glare that strained his face so much that the corners of his mouth twitched.

Your hand grasped the stranger’s and a searing pain wracked your body. You twitched involuntarily and a series of tremors caused your muscles to tense. You tore your hand away and stared at your palm accusingly.

The foreign monster snorted and released a guffaw of laughter. It sounded more like a bark than a laugh but you disregarded this. Your eyes slowly slid upwards to inspect the new arrival. Your eyes widened incrementally when you saw that this monster was a skeleton. Well, you have already seen Toriel who was a nine-foot-tall hybrid form of a goat, dog, and human so you could find some vague similarities between a regular human and this skeletal being. He was bent forward with the force of his laughter which was now fading to a few snickers and sudden intakes of air.

“heh heh,” the creature chuckled before raising the pinpricks of light present in his sockets back to your eyes. “the old joy buzzer in the hand trick. never gets old. well, i did improve it a little. A few extra volts here and there.”

“Are you okay?” Flowey asked, swiveling his head to look at you before glaring at the newcomer. “Go away, comedian! We don’t need your services here!”

The grinning skeleton brought a hand up to his cervical vertebrae, rubbing the bones there carefully. “i don’t appreciate your tone. i have a lot of jokes that will be sure to _flora_ ya.”

“Don’t you dare!” Flowey screeched, causing you to almost drop the boot completely.

“why couldn’t the gardener plant any flowers?”

“Sans! I swear! If you throw that punch—”

The skeleton’s grin grew wider as he interrupted Flowey. “because he hadn’t _botany_.”

“—line, I’ll…”

Flowey went really still. Unnaturally still. So still that when you turned the boot in order to get a better look at him, he was staring through you. You put his boot down and spared a glance at the awful skeleton who shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“eh, some audiences love ‘em. others go all stiff like your little buddy.”

This position allowed you to describe Sans fully since he wasn’t hunched over. Sans face was round and he had an omnipresent smile that showcased each of his pointed teeth. One tooth was gold. He was a measly five-foot-five and wore clothes that were way too big for him. His jacket was lined with white fur and yellow fabric lined the zipper. His shorts were similar to the jacket, jet black with a single line of yellow running over each leg. His red shirt seemed to bring out his red-rimmed eyes. The red rim led you to wonder if the skeleton got enough sleep.

Sans lifted his hand and put it back in the pocket of his black jacket. You followed the line of movement carefully and shifted your hand towards the knife tucked into the waistband of your shorts. Sans caught sight of the change.

“which do you think will be faster?” He drawled, the little red lights in his eyes disappearing. “your hand reaching for the knife or mine reaching for your wrist?”

You blinked and the skeleton disappeared from your line of sight. You drew the knife out but his bony hand was already constricting your wrist.  He pulled your hand back as far as it could go behind you before he folded it carefully against your body. Your hand was held between your shoulder blades. The situation gave you no space to move against him. You grunted in mild irritation and Sans leaned his head onto your shoulder.

“so, sweetheart,” he murmured. “what’s the plan?”

You scowled at him but let go of the knife, letting it fall to the snow. Sans kicked the knife away and let you go. You rubbed at your shoulder. He could have easily dislocated your arm but he decided not to.

He sighed, picked up the knife, and slid it into his pocket. “not much of a talker, are ya?”

You remained silent and picked up Flowey who seemed to regain his senses. “The kid talks. They just don’t want to talk to _you_.”

That made Sans’ eyes narrow and his grin falter. You looked between Flowey and Sans. They seemed to share a history. Flowey seemed to know that Sans was going to appear before he did so. You wondered if my memories would depict Sans. You found him an interesting subject. Of course, your interest was purely clinical. You wanted to dissect him; figure out what makes him tick. You wanted to see that monster so broken down that he had no choice but to run to your open arms. You would methodically put him back together, get him to trust you. You would build him up to something much stronger than he was. You understood that Sans was grossly underestimated by most but, for some reason, you wanted to turn him into a god. Your lips quirked upwards and Sans noticed.

“well, you’re human. that’s hilarious. for me. not really for you. you’re going to have a miserable time.” He laughed again and Flowey growled. “boss is going to take you for a ride, that’s for sure. you certain that you don’t want to go back into the ruins and get coddled to death by the nanny that lives there?”

You eyebrows flew upwards but Flowey asked the question, “You know Toriel?”

Sans lifted his chin. “we’ve talked. human, follow me. undyne miscalculated the width of the bars so you can get through them without a hitch.”

Sans scuffed his sneakers forward and you spared a look at Flowey, who nodded his approval. You followed Sans across the bridge and over to a new area. You inspected it thoroughly. There was an oddly shaped lamp, what seemed to be a little shack and two large bundles of snow.

“I know you don’t want to Reset here. We haven’t found a Save Point since Toriel. We don’t want to repeat that,” Flowey whispered as you proceeded forward. “Just be careful. He’s…an odd one.”

You took his advice in mind but your curiosity concerning Sans was overwhelming your concern for your own safety. You watched Sans hop over the counter of the shack and walked over.

“boss should be around soon. you should find a place to hide, doll.”

You pointed your finger inside the shack but said nothing more. Flowey looked you over and shook his head, “Nope. Nuh-uh. We are not hiding in there. Too bad, human! Find another spot!”

Sans leaned his elbow on the counter and propped his head on his open palm, he tilted his head. “you can hide in here.”

Now, you found yourself in a conflict of interests. The pull you felt towards Sans was being disrupted by the need to survive with Flowey. You knew the flower’s interests were to keep you alive. He needed you to be able to pass over the Barrier. Why this was, you had yet to ask. You knew that you were necessary to him. Sans was the biggest wild card you had come across so far. You had no idea how much your death would warrant him. Would he try to kill you? You weren’t even sure that the curiosity you held for him was mutual! Besides, a need to watch the other’s demise didn’t seem too healthy.

You turned and nodded to Flowey. Flowey’s petals twitched and he nodded. You tried not to dwell on how my feelings swelled for the engorged area where his fifth petal used to be. “Come on, human. We should go hide behind those piles of snow.”

They were indeed large enough to hide behind. You didn’t dare a glance in Sans direction. Least you may regret your decision to follow Flowey. You quickly settled behind the snow pile and it was at that exact moment that a new presence decided to show itself.

“SANS!” Yelled the newcomer as he marched forward. The stranger was much taller than Sans. He towered at nearly eight feet high. He was dressed clad in black leather. His top cut off at his bottom rib and spiked out at the shoulders. It reminded you a football chest protector with shoulder padding that an angst ridden teenager customized. His leather pants hung low on his pelvic bone with a gold studded belt holding them up. There was also a red scarf wrapped around his cervical vertebrae. You assumed it was hard to find clothes that fit when you were a skeleton but Sans and this newcomer seemed fine.

“heya boss. happy hunting?”

The one Sans called ‘Boss’ scowled and fingered a scar that crossed his left eye. His eyes were similar to Sans’. “THE HUNTING HAS NOT BEEN HAPPY AT ALL. IN FACT, IT’S BEEN HORRIBLE. AND IT’S NO THANKS TO YOU AND YOU’RE LACK OF MOTIVATION.”

Sans scoffed. “motivation isn’t necessary, boss. you just gotta show up.”

“SANS, IN THE PAST WEEK, YOU’VE SHOW UP FOR A TOTAL OF TEN OF YOUR SCHEDULED FORTY HOURS.”

“damn, that’s more than last week.”

“YOU AREN’T MAKING THIS EASY FOR ME, YOU IDIOT! HOW AM I, THE ESTEEMED CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD, SUPPOSED TO LOOK IF I CAN’T EVEN CONTROL MY MISERABLE OLDER BROTHER?” He shouted. You pretended not to notice the way Sans flinched. “THE HUMAN, SANS. HAS THE HUMAN PASSED THROUGH? TODAY IS THE DAY. I FEEL IT IN MY BONES.”

“what makes you think that they’ll pass through here? i think they’d try to avoid Snowdin as much as possible.”

Sans’ younger brother leaned into the smaller’s personal space. Red beads of sweat accumulated on the older brother’s forehead. Some of the beads were sliding over his cheek bones and others were falling into his darkened eye sockets. The younger brother grinned. “NO ONE CARES ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK, SANS! IF YOU SEE THE HUMAN, TEAR OUT ITS SOUL! DON’T GIVE ME ANY GODDAMN EXCUSES! TRY HARDER!”

The younger brother paused and clenched his fist. Suddenly, a bone appeared in the closed hand. “NO…BRING THEM IN ALIVE. I MUST BE THE ONE TO KILL THE HUMAN. I WILL GET ALL THE FAME AND GLORY THAT I DESERVE IF I END THEIR MEASLY LIFE! I’LL KILL ANYONE THAT STANDS IN MY WAY!”

With that, he crushed the bone in his hand. The sound of it alone caused you to swallow audibly. Flowey looked up at you with a furrowed brow. Ever since the heated incident with your mother years ago, you had a visceral reaction to anything concerning a broken bone. I guess he hadn’t seen you so _human_ before. “IF YOU EVEN THINK OF KILLING THE HUMAN BEFORE I CAN, I WILL MURDER YOU, SANS. BROTHER OR NOT.”

With that, Sans’ younger brother left the vicinity. You could tell because the younger unleashed a wave of bones to completely destroy the oddly shaped lamp. You heard his booming voice over the distance, “I HATE THAT LAMP!”

You and Flowey emerged from hiding. Sans was gone. The only indications of his presence were the indentations of his fingers in the wooden countertop. You glanced inside the little shack and saw various empty mustard containers as well as a well-used sleeping bag and pillow. There was an old calendar hung on the wall and on the rest of the wood was carvings. The carvings seemed to mark the number of days spent inside. According to the fact that the walls were covered in these little etchings, it wasn’t Sans’ first rodeo.

“There are a lot of traps up ahead.” Flowey said prudently. “It would be best if we continued carefully.”

“We just need to find a Save Point. Then, we’ll work on getting to Snowdin in one piece.”

You walked forward and glimpsed one of the floating Save Points with a grin. You latched your hand onto it and overwrote your previous file. _(Having an advantage over Sans…seems to fill you with Determination?)_

After you Saved, Flowey glanced towards the east. “Let’s head that way. Snowdin is towards the east.”

“I really don’t appreciate you ordering me around,” You muttered as Flowey rolled his eyes.

“Would you like me to be a little more polite, then?” He tutted. “Fine! Can you _please_ head towards the east, _Your Grace_.”

Your fingers traced his leaves as you readjusted your grip on the boot that held him. You heaved him up a little higher and he exclaimed, “I’m not that heavy, human!”

“No, your head is just a little too inflated with all that arrogance.”

He sputtered as you walked beside a large, sturdy pine tree. Suddenly, a trap sprung. You had just activated a snare that was hidden in the snow. A simply knotted rope snagged your ankle and pulled you into the air. It swung you from side to side. In your struggle, you had dropped Flowey who now looked up at you, a triumphant and good for nothing smile glazing his face.

“Well, well, well.” He cooed as you slowed down. “What do we have here?”

Your hair hung over your face and your shirt rode up your chest, exposing your navel. Even your pack was sliding off your shoulders. “Get me down from here.”

Flowey considered the idea. His smile mutated into the one you saw before he killed you with his ‘friendliness’ pellets. “And what if I decided not to?”

Your eyes widened, cracking your normally impassable emotionless façade. Then, they immediately narrowed. Their maroon color turning blacker than the darkest state of the Underground. “You wouldn’t.”

That was a challenge if Flowey had ever heard one and he had heard a lot of challenges over the years. Most of them had come from Sans or Papyrus since both the Bone Brothers had a bit of a mean streak in them. A few had been received from Alphys before Flowey escaped the lab. Now, he could add another. Flowey stuck out his tongue at you and winked before dropping out of the boot and underneath the fresh snow.

“Shit!” You swore and tried to pull your leg out of the snag.

A realization overcame you. All you needed to do was Reset and you would be brought back to the Save Point you saved at earlier. Then, you would show that flower just who was in charge around here. You cackled and tried to muster up the Determination necessary to conjure up a Reset but the feeling of the blood rushing to your head caused your focus to fade.

After a few minutes of no Flowey, you sound yourself getting more and more desperate for release. You struggled against your bounds. You sighed and allowed your eyes to droop closed. You were growing dizzier as time progressed. You knew your face must have been as red as a tomato. Your pack had also fallen to the snow at this point. This didn’t stop Sans from approaching the rather odd scene a few moments later.

“it’s a good thing that a gyftrot didn’t find you.” You heard his tongue click against his teeth. “seeing as though you’re decorating that tree, you might upset the poor monster.”

“Oh woe is the Gyftrot,” you replied unsympathetically.

He stood exactly one foot away from your hanging body, his face was almost right underneath yours. “so, dollface. want me to get you down?”

Your legs wouldn’t be able to help you much in your next attempt. They were slowly going numb.

“you might asphyxiate if you don’t. where did that little plant of yours go?”

“Ditched when he had the chance. I suppose I shouldn’t have threatened him so much but if you were caught with such an untrained companion, you would have probably acted similarly.” You thought you saw Sans tremble but his eyes fell to the ground. You readdressed him, “Sans?”

“Y-yes, human?”

“I would very much appreciate it if you got me down.”

Swiftly, Sans summoned your soul and lifted your knife from his pocket. He teleported from where he was in front and appeared on the branch that you were attached to. He swung at the rope with the knife and it snapped at the intensity of the blow. Sans grasped your soul with his magic as you fell and you floated to the ground gracefully. Once you were on the ground, you found yourself drawn to the vibrant red flames that erupted from his eye sockets. The fizzed out as he returned to your side.

“don’t think that this changes anything,” he mumbled, a dark red flush streaking his cheekbones.

“I would be foolish to assume anything less.” You replied as you pulled your bag over your shoulder again.

“y’know. you talk pretty weird,” he grumbled before he realized something with a groan. “i don’t even know your name.”

“Nobody tends to ask. You’re the first to even mention it, actually. It’s Frisk.”

“heh, frisk. i’ll keep it in mind, sweetheart. you better skedaddle, boss’ll be back soon to re-check his rounds.”

“Why do you call him that? He’s your brother.”

 Sans stiffened and seemed to retreat further into himself. “don’t ask.”

“It’s impolite to refuse to maintain a conversation, Sans.”

“don’t. push. me.” He ground his teeth together. You knew that his hand was tightening around the knife but you never thought him so bold as to stab it into your stomach.

You stepped forward and licked you lips. “You want to know what I think? I think that you are weak. A man who easily falls victim to his primal urges. You cannot control yourself.”

“i can control myself!” He gasped as sweat fell from his skull. You reached a finger and caught a drop in your hand before letting it slip through your fingers.

“Can you really? Do you suffer from moodiness, Sans? Do you jump from emotion to emotion constantly? You may think your just following the motion of the conversation but I think that you are tired and irritable. You’re deprived.”

“deprived of what?” He snapped, glaring at you.

“Deprived of training; like Flowey, of emotional release, of sleep, of _sex_. Tell me, Sans, are you a virgin?” You were being coy but I watched your movements as if you were insane. You had a guaranteed death wish. You were a mongoose, curiously sniffing around an alarmed cobra.  “Did you save me because you decided that I would owe you? That I would appease you and bend to your every whim? Did you want me to lick your boots and kneel at your feet, Sans?”

Sans was bright red as he tripped over himself to get away from you. “y-you’re fucked up, kid.”

“And what does that make you?” You sang to him, tipping your head to the side as you leaned forward. You were close enough that your nose was touching his nasal bone. “A dirty old man with a fucked up child fetish.”

Sans was up on his feet and summoning up his magic but his emotions were easily swayed and seemed to be demanding most of his focus. Thus, his magic was also being afflicted by your brashness. “You’re going to run away from me, Sans? Just like you run away from your brother? Was he ever proud of you? I can always teach him a thing or two. If it makes you feel any better. I could spread his dust over the Underground and have him remembered as a martyr! That’ll give the attention he so desperately desires!”

Apparently, that was Sans’ breaking point. He truly loved his brother and that fact made him even more pathetic in your eyes. He rammed you into the pine tree behind you, grabbed your throat, and began to constrict your airways with one skeletal hand. His eyes were wild and even the little pinpricks in his sockets had grown wide. His eyes were narrowed and his grin resembled one of a madman.

“You won’t do it.” You laughed hoarsely. You almost spat in his face just so you could provoke him. “You don’t have the guts.”

Sans’ smile took on a hint of amusement as he ran the tip of your knife over your forehead, watching the skin split and you gasp. “only half right there, doll. i don’t have any guts.”

He bared your neck slightly and expertly sliced through your carotid artery. Interiorly, you were glad that you had chosen this knife. It was so sharp that you barely felt anything. If the knife was too blunt it would mean more tearing of the skin and less cutting. You had underestimated its worth. Blood sprayed against his skull and your hands as you desperately tried to pry his phalanges away from the wound. You smiled softly when he didn’t and he watched as blood bubbled over your lips. You gurgled a laugh and he hushed you.

“don’t worry, this’ll be my quickest kill yet.”

You awoke in the Void.

_That went well._

 “Very well.” You agreed, rubbing a hand across your neck. You were assuring yourself that the wound had faded. “This is all getting very interesting.”

_And you haven’t even met the whole cast. You are missing a whole portion of the Underground. You never even made it to Snowdin. Why don’t we try not getting too close this time? Keep Flowey around. He’ll help you through this._

“That flower escaped the second the chance came,” you reasoned as I hesitated. “He should be taught a lesson.”

_Please don’t hurt him. He’s stupid, that’s all! He could easily become a good ally!_

“He could, I don’t deny that. What he needs is to be trained. To be told right from wrong. If he can’t follow simple rules, he’s overstayed his welcome!” You said.

_Frisk, be reasonable._

“I’m being very reasonable. You are too quickly guided by your emotions. In fact, you’re similar to Sans in that way. You would protect anybody who meant something to you, Chara. Did that cause your death? Did you protect Asriel far too much?”

_You’re unbelievable._

You clenched your hands into fists. “Unbelievable. We use that word so sparingly, don’t you think? We use it to describe people, landscapes, things that are just _surprising_. But at some points in your life, things happen that your mind cannot process. That every cell in your body rejects. Losing someone, so precious to you, so integral to your way of life. I guess that must be truly unbelievable. I’ve never had such a person before but I’ve longed to feel something as deep as that. Did you feel disbelief in your heart when he died?”

I remained quiet and you abandoned all hope for an answer. “I’ve always wondered if I can live a life like that. In which I have an emotional dependency on someone. I can’t help but think it would be hard.”

You Reset quickly and regained consciousness. Staring at you was the flower that so nimbly escaped your grasp.

“Oh, Flowey. What am I to do with you?”

“I-I didn’t mean to do it,” He stammered, looking away from your vicious glare. “It was a momentary loss of my sanity, I-I mean, it was a stupid thing to do!”

“I know,” in fact you were saying the same thing to me. “That’s why you need to be conditioned not to do these things.”

Flowey gulped and stared up at you from his boot. “And how are you going to do that?”

“I have a plan but it will wait until we reach Snowdin. Now, bring me there. We have until midday.”

You carefully avoided the tree you had been killed against and the snare hidden under the snow. You walked through the forests while avoiding the occasional bear trap, mouse trap, 1-live door traps meant for dogs, and so on.

“You really meant traps didn’t you? I kind of thought I’d be doing puzzles that would cause dire consequences! Just imagine it: a jigsaw puzzle with a hundred pieces meant to be solved in two minutes, otherwise you will trigger a rockslide that will trap you in this part of the forest forever! After announcing this, Sans’ brother will laugh evilly and rub his fingers together like any other cartoon villain! He’d be all like, NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEH! HEH!”

“You’re crazy, that sounds like some sort of Indiana Jones shenanigans. Papyrus has no sense of humor and Sans’ puns are horrible.” However, Fowey smiled. “They do collect animal traps though. It must be odd to visit their house.”

There were other monsters that seemed to stay away from you and Flowey. Flowey watched them evenly and made sure that he had a few roots ready to leap out at his unsuspecting victims if they were to step out of line. You appreciated this but you also knew that he was trying to win back your good graces. He had a bud of a petal growing out of his head in the space where you had pulled one out.

Flowey seemed to be the only one who was excluded from the Resets. He remembered every occurrence. Your sins would follow you through him. Not that you necessarily minded. He also seemed to keep the changes to his person through every Reset. You hadn’t seen the little petal growing out of his head until now and it wasn’t there when he left you in the last Reset. That meant that it grew in between both Save files.

You had first noticed the new petal as you were engaged in combat with Doggo. A dog that talked, smoked dog biscuits, and was blind as a bat. It was easy to get past the dog with the green shirt and purple leopard print pants. Upon Flowey’s request, you even pet the dog, only for him to freak out and hide behind the counter for the rest of his turns.

“Careful,” Flowey presently warned as he pushed you to the side a little. You noticed that his actions helped you narrowly avoid another snare. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. “You shouldn’t delve too far into your thoughts. You get all distracted.”

You rolled your eyes at him and looked ahead. Up ahead, the area was frozen over like an ice rink, you had never skated before. Perhaps you could have some fun before getting killed again. You also noticed a familiar figure leaning against the bark of another pine tree. The older Bone Brother was smoking. You watched as he took a long drag before exhaling. The smoke came pouring out of every empty space between his bones. You watched the pinpricks that were his pupils lock onto your figure. He stilled, the cigarette becoming more ash than anything else. He _remembered._ The thought made you extremely excited. You flipped a lock of hair behind your ear, careful to draw a faint line across your neck as you drew your arm back to your side. Your smirk turned absolutely deadly.

“H-hey, uh, you alright?” Flowey mumbled, thinking that this sudden change in composure was because of him. You blinked at him before tightening your arms around his boot.

“Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong yet.”

Flowey mutterings didn’t escape you, “You don’t know how much happiness those words give me right now.”

An uncharacteristic smile flashed on your face and Flowey’s eyes widened. You managed to control yourself and the smile disappeared. You smiled for your father but those were fake smiles. You smiled for your mother but those were spiteful smiles. You smiled for your sister but those were filled with lingering hints of blackmail. You smiled for Sans but that one was a bloody, prideful mess meant for his eyes only. This one was a genuinely amused smile, one that softened your features considerably. You decided that it came from my emotions.

“Don’t think this changes anything.” You said. Reminding yourself of Sans and his mood swings. You ignored the fact that your thoughts seemed to shift to him constantly. When you turned around, the skeleton was gone anyways.

You turned your full attention on Flowey, “You know, I still have to punish you later.”

“You know, as _kinky_ as that sounds, I don’t know if I can.”

“You need to follow exact rules, so I’m going to give you them. If you follow them, we’ll avoid me killing you out of frustration.” You kept my words in your head. You needed to find a common ground between my emotions and your own. Being exclusively sadistic would cause my emotions to snap but being too nice would cause you to snap. The smile you had sent Flowey was only one of the many things that told you that you were losing yourself to my emotions.

“Are you…being your own special brand of merciful?”

“Perhaps.”

He laughed, “Maybe I can get through to you.”

You ran forward and slid across the ice, causing the flower to screech and topple unceremoniously out of his boot. When you got to the other side of the icy terrain, you saw Flowey trying to get himself over to you and failing terribly. His roots were slipping all over the place and offering no solid support for his stem.

“Try rooting!” You suggested.

“In the ice?”

“Can’t hurt.”

Flowey didn’t dignify the suggestion with a response so you watched him move around hopelessly for a good half hour. “We’re never going to get to Snowdin at this rate!”

So you went over and picked him up off the ice. Then, you deposited him into the boot once again.

His eyes narrowed, “You sadistic little shit. I take back what I said.”

You winked and stuck out your tongue as he had in the previous file. He told you to keep going towards the east. As you traveled, you saw a creature leaning on an ice cream cart. He sighed deeply as you approached.

“Can I buy two?” You asked carefully. Flowey tilted his head. You had no money.

“Two Not-So-Nice Creams?” The green man asked, a happy gleam in his eyes. He scooped out two heapings of the Not-So-Nice Cream, dropped it onto two sugar cones, and handed them to you. As he tallied up the price, you scurried off over the unsteady wooden bridge. “Hey! Wait!”

You ran away and enjoyed your two Not-So-Nice Cream cones. Flowey photosynthesized so he didn’t need the access sugar. Maybe one day you would pour a coke into a pot he was rooted in so you could see the side effects. It was surprising but you were imagining keeping the flower with you on the Surface.

It was getting colder throughout your travels but Flowey told you that this was because the day was fading. Time was running out. He told you that you needed to get to Snowdin by nightfall so that you didn’t freeze. You decided to jog through some areas so that the blood in your body was pumping and the warmth was flowing. You stopped when you saw a punny trap, obviously of Sans’ creation, that had a giant guillotine near a mouse’s home. There was also a beautiful Save Point. _(This ill-timed guillotine pun fills you with Determination.)_ There was a melon in the basket that accompanied the decapitation device and a note beside the entire set up. The note simply read:

‘just place your _melon_ right on in there.’

 “I don’t get it,” Flowey said.

“The melon in this case, refers to my head. It’s an odd human saying. My father used to always tell me to use my melon instead of use my head all the time.”

Flowey’s eyes snapped up to your head and you wondered if he was trying to assess your head’s likeliness to a melon. You shook your head and tutted before clearing the area and moving on. You avoided a growling white dog with armor on that Flowey called Lesser Dog and you caused a couple of dogs to have the need to go to couples’ counseling. Papyrus, was a presence that was hard to avoid. He stalked around every area and if he heard any sounds that sounded out of the ordinary, he unleashed a series of bone-related attacks. You wanted to strike down the skeleton, but your knife wasn’t on your person.

“Where’s the knife?” Flowey pleaded after a close encounter with Papyrus but you hadn’t felt the comfort of the cold steel since the last Reset.

“Do you know what happens to your items when we Reset?” You asked him, trying to dodge the question to better understand the situation yourself.

“Well, they respawn with you.”

“Flowey, if you stole something off me, would it come back to me if I went back on a previous Save file where I still had the thing you stole?”

“Those are the rules; however, there are no duplicates of the items. So if someone managed to save the item from being affected by the Reset before the previous file is loaded, the item would remain wherever it was saved and not return to you. It happened to me once.”

“Really?” You asked as Flowey nodded.

“Yup, the comedian. He tore out one of my roots once and it wasn’t there when I loaded. Because the person who Reset should return back to their previous state of being, understand? But that root never grew back.”

“He stole my knife. He killed me in the last file so he must have pocketed it.”

“He did?” Flowey swivelled in his boot and hissed. “I told you not to get close! No one can read that clown!”

“I meant for it to happen and, since I was hanging around anyway, I couldn’t really stay away,” you admitted, a small smile on your face. Flowey fell silent again.

“So Sans must be finding some way to manipulate the Save files. Do you think he remembers?”

You knew that he remembered. How he remembered and why he remembered were two things you tried to figure out. You were left to your thoughts on how this might be occurring.

Flowey, on the other hand, was busily bribing Greater Dog and Lesser Dog, who had appeared in a field filled with broken statues, with the location to Doggo’s treat stash. You finally got to see a Gyftrot and laughed at its ridiculousness for a while before Flowey managed to convince the oddly canvased monster that you were his oddly human looking monster friend and that you had a mental disability that caused you to laugh way too much at physical appearances. The Gyftrot gave you a pitiful stare before it bounded off into the forest. The battle with Jerry still wasn’t worth too much of a mention.

You finally reached a large, rickety-looking bridge. Flowey sighed in relief. “We haven’t died too many times!!”

You tried to ignore that you died once with Greater Dog, thrice with Lesser Dog, seven times with Dogamy and Dogaressa, once with Sans, eight times from lucky shots made by Papyrus, and you accidentally made yourself Reset after hitting your head against a pine tree one too many times. There was also that one time that you got yourself killed when facing off against Jerry and an Ice Cap but you both vowed never to speak of that again. Unfortunately for you both, I am not a very good liar. This list also doesn’t include the five times you got a bear trap to the leg.

“I guess that it’s a good thing we have Save Points everywhere,” you muttered. Flowey didn’t hear this comment over the sound of the relief flooding over him.

“Snowdin is just past this bridge! Papyrus wouldn’t have been able to put traps on this thing either! Look how old it looks.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Papyrus.” His lucky shots had gotten you pretty riled up. “Maybe we should test it just in case. Maybe there ae some pressure sensitive traps.”

You picked up a rock and tossed it onto the bridge. As the little rock skipped along the bridge, it sprung four crossbows and seven spears. You looked at Flowey with a smirk. For the next fifteen minutes, you both took immense pleasure it throwing rocks onto the bridge to spring all the pressure traps. Once they were all activated, there was eight crossbows, ten spears, one canon that was aimed too high (the cannonball just sailed over the bridge), three maces, and one tiny growling dog.

“Well that was overkill,” Flowey laughed. “You probably would’ve died with just the spears!”

He joyously asked you to cross the bridge and started along. You paused and put down his boot, causing Flowey to look at you weirdly. You pulled one of the crossbows off of where it was taped to the bridge. They were all miniature crossbows. You also picked up some of the cast away arrows before settling them all into your pack.

You picked up Flowey, who seemed uncomfortable at the thought of you having another weapon. Weird fact: the bridge wasn’t made of wood at all. It was made of ice. Someone painted over the ice to make it look like wood. You were a scrawny little thing and even with Flowey’s added weight and the weight of your pack, the ice didn’t break. It was far too solid. The paint also gave you a great advantage. It seemed to be a matte paint that made the ice less slippery.

You didn’t like people watching you. You were still wary of all the cameras plastered around the forest. However, this wasn’t what was making your skin crawl. Whoever it was had been following you for a good few hours but you hadn’t told Flowey. You thought it would upset the paranoid flower and you didn’t need his protective screeching to start. Out of your peripheral vision you saw the figure but it was too close to the trees. The darkness the giant pine trees provided did enough to conceal any features from being shown.

You wondered if it was Sans. You wondered if it was Papyrus. The figure seemed too tall to be either of them. Too wide. You caught yourself almost tripping over a leftover spear on the bridge. Flowey glanced at you curiously but didn’t ask any of the questions blooming in his eyes. You turned your attention from the figure to the town ahead and you didn’t look back. You tried your best not to. You didn’t feel like having any nightmarish visions tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't actually early. The previous chapter was just really late.  
> So I decided to upload this one anyway. 
> 
> Like always, enjoy.


	5. A Little Knowledge Would Do You Some Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “HUMAN! COME OUT OF HIDING! IT’LL BE SO MUCH EASIER TO KILL YOU—I MEAN, ‘HELP’ YOU IF YOU DO SO!”
> 
> “uh, boss, i thought that you meant the first part—”
> 
> “SANS. HUMANS ARE ATTRACTED TO NOT DYING A HORRIBLE DEATH. DON’T DISTRACT ME.”
> 
> “gotcha boss. i’m just here to enjoy the show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sassy characters, Wingdings, Death, and the like.
> 
> **Wingding Translations are in the notes at the end of the chapter for all those who cannot see the Wingdings, Gaster' text is bolded.

_‘Welcome to Snowdin!’_

Flowey swore that the sign used to read that. Some of the LED lights that powered the sign’s letters had blown out. Now the sign read, _‘ e c  e t  S  w in!’._ Someone had also written all over the sign with red spray paint. The inscription read, _‘Jerry was here! Try to ditch this, smartass!’_

“Goddamn it, Jerry,” Flowey sighed as his head slumped. “Whatever, let’s keep going.”

The snow was trampled on by several different sized feet. Some trails weren’t even left by feet. You decided that it might be best to proceed with your eyes up. Your mouth dropped open a fraction when you saw the state that Snowdin was in. Windows were boarded up, bundles of glass were hidden in the snow piles underneath them, monsters stood outside in tattered jackets huddled around burn barrels that blazed brightly in the dark, lights were flickering from inside buildings, and children were throwing bricks at each other in the middle of the town square.

“There’s an abandoned house further in the town,” Flowey said, ducking down as if to avoid the flying bricks. “Those little urchins must have gotten those bricks from there.”

“Where are their parents?” You asked as he huffed a laugh.

“They don’t care.”

“Let them knock each other unconscious then! As long as we don’t get hit, it doesn’t affect me.”

Flowey made a sound of acknowledgement but still remained hunched in his boot. You stared at two buildings that were bridged together. “That’s the Inn and the Shop. They’re both owned by the Rabbit sisters. They don’t sell their services to humans though.”

You felt your spirits drop slightly but you wouldn’t let it get to you. You stood in front of both buildings and winked at Flowey. “Is there some way I can sneak in?”

“Sneak in? Are you crazy?” Flowey rushed, his eyes wide.

“We need to find a place to stay and we need to be well-stocked to continue our journey. Resetting can only work so much, Flowey.” Plus, our impromptu meetings were getting on your nerves.

Flowey inhaled deeply. “I know.”

Suddenly, a brick was chucked. It whizzed by your face. You stepped backwards with a startled sound as Flowey hissed at the children.

“Hey! Stop that, you little idiots!”

The children laughed menacingly. One, a little yellow creature with horns and a tail, lifted his chin high in the air as he spoke. “Humans aren’t allowed in these parts. Don’t you know that Papyrus will get you?”

Flowey snickered, “The oh-so-great Captain of the Royal Guard? I’m shaking in my boot!”

Flowey had been shaking in his boot when Papyrus attacked at random noises earlier in the forest so you wondered how he would take _actually_ being shot at. The flower was all talk and no bite. You smacked one of his leaves and he yelped before quieting down.

“You better watch what you say!” The kid bellowed as the other monsters, a Chilldrake, a Snowdrake, and an Ice Cap, tutted. “We should teach these smartasses a lesson!”

They knelt down and picked up some of the other bricks at their disposal. Flowey saw this as a sign of a threat and became hostile. His roots emerged from where they were hidden in his boot and he pointed them like daggers at the children. The children laughed at this reaction and whipped their bricks towards you. You flinched and stepped to the side, preparing to make the effort to dodge, but were pleasantly surprised when the bricks were sent back in the opposite direction. The children shrieked and ducked down as the bricks were chucked into the inn’s window.

“What the—! Hooligans! I’ll teach you better than to toss bricks into other people’s windows!” A woman’s voice yelled as a young female rabbit bounded out with a kit attached to her hip. She cocked her shotgun and fired off a few warning rounds, causing the kids to run off. She swore angrily and stalked back inside.

“Smiley Trashbag!” Flowey groaned, looking over your shoulder. “We had it handled!”

“you have no defensive power.”

“What do you mean? The kid is pretty well rounded!” Flowey clucked sounding like an offended rooster.

“aren’t being a little _ranunculus_? the kid is impaired since they have to carry you around. having only one hand to block or attack isn’t the easiest thing to overcome when under serious threat. you’re probably heavy enough to lower their speed and evasiveness.”

Flowey sputtered out a few incoherent responses as you snorted at the pure ridiculousness of the pun. He had a point though and Flowey seemed to realize that as he slumped further into the boot.

“That wasn’t your best pun, Sans.” You replied, a lazy smile taking place as you turned around. “Now, we have no choice but to find somewhere else to stay tonight. I’m pretty sure that lady won’t want us hanging around here much longer.”

Sans averted your eyes, finding the top of your head much more interesting. “hey, i can always get ‘er to come around. plus, if she lets you sleep in the inn, her sister will let you use the shop.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head, “Really?”

He chuckled, “yeah, really. the innkeeper is the easier one to manipulate. she has kids. being a mother makes you sensitive to children, monster or otherwise. i could probably get a good word in with the shopkeep too, but i doubt she’ll let you in with just that. i’m not the highest person on her list right now.”

“Let me guess,” you teased. “Did you have sex with her and drop her? That’s not very nice at all, Sans. You should have called her at least!”

Flowey squawked and Sans flushed in embarrassment and grumbled, “geez kid, what makes you think i’m such a heartbreaker?”

You smirked and turned back towards the inn. “Can you get me in there or not?”

Sans clicked his tongue against his teeth. His one gold tooth stood out like a sore thumb. You wondered if he had gotten it to remember something significant. He shuffled over to the front door to the inn and pulled on his collar as he did so. “don’t get on my bad side, kid. else, i might just find myself having a very good time.”

You fastened your scarf further around your neck and followed after him. Flowey, on the other hand, remained perfectly still as he whispered, “I still don’t see why you’re allowing this clown to help us. He could easily kill you like last time.”

“Humans have many sayings. One of my favorite ones is to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Said the flower dryly.

“You learn about them. Isn’t that why you keep me around?” You responded coldly.

The door chimed as the three of you entered. Sans held the door open for you as you passed. The innkeeper paused as you entered and scowled once she saw Sans.

“Sans, you’d better not be coming by to sleep with my sister and dump her ass again! I got dragged into a lot of emotional shit I didn’t need to deal with!”

“eh, it’s in the past, lady. i don’t even remember your sister’s name.” The skeleton growled. “i just need a room for my buddy over there.”

“A human, Sans?” The woman sneered. “Really?”

“boss wants the human to remain comfortable during their last days. you aren’t going to go against the word of the esteemed captain of the royal guard, are ya?”

The woman ran her tongue against her front teeth but opened her log books all the same. She licked her finger and thumbed through the pages almost absentmindedly. “How long are they staying?”

“indefinitely if i have anything to say about it.”

The woman gritted her teeth and wrote an entry under Sans’ name. You appreciated the help that the skeleton’s name will generate. She handed you a coupon. You looked up at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“That’s a coupon for my sister’s shop.” She clarified. “Buy one Cinnamon Bunny get the second one free?”

“pretty sweet deal.”

The rabbit woman handed you a key with a piece of paper taped onto it. Marked on the paper was the number three. “That’s your room number. Don’t lose the key.”

You nodded and proceeded to leave the inn. You made your way to the shop only to notice Sans lagging behind. “Not coming?”

“like i said, i ain’t on her good list. go ahead, dollface. i need to get rid of a couple of things anyhow.” He walked over to you and placed a leather pouch in your hands. The pouch was filled with something heavy and when you shook it, it jingled. “it’s gold, sweetheart.”

“I hope you know that I won’t be paying you back,” you began to say but Sans was already on his way. He was headed further into town. Flowey stared at the bag incredulously.

“He _wants_ something,” the flower gaped. “He fucking wants something! You can’t use that gold!”

“Why not? I’ll use a bit and give it back.”

“I can’t help but think that this is a bad idea.” Flowey murmured as you opened the door to the shop. “But you’re gonna do it anyway.”

While walking into the shop, you noticed that the shopkeeper wasn’t present and that the shop smelled of pastry filling and cigarette smoke. You assumed that the second Rabbit Sister was upstairs judging by the staircase half hidden by a curtain. You looked over the products on the shelves. There were some bottles filled with mysterious glowing liquids, pieces of armor, snack foods, weapons, and souvenir knickknacks and snow globes.

In the weapons section, you found a spray bottle. You snatched it from the shelf and went to the snack foods. You easily located the Cinnamon Bunnies and plucked two of them as well. Then, you went to up to the cash register and placed your items on the countertop. You tapped the tips of your fingers on the glass and sighed. You lifted Flowey up onto the counter.

“Don’t forget me in this putrid place,” he remarked and you rolled your eyes.

There was a little bell located close to the register so you rung it and waited again. You saw the woman coming down the stairs not a moment later.

“You got everything you need? I don’t feel like staying down here too long.” You flashed her a thumbs up and she froze. “You’re a human.”

“We have cash so it shouldn’t be too much of a bother!” Flowey answered instead, taking the attention away from you.

“That doesn’t matter. We don’t serve humans here!” She hissed. You held up the coupon and she appeared surprised for a second. “My sister must have given you that. You’re staying at the inn?”

“That’s right. We’re staying there _indefinitely_. So we will be buying these items if you don’t mind!” Flowey exclaimed, a giant smile on his smug little face. You thought his head was getting bigger by the second.

The woman scowled but looked over your items and snatched the coupon away from you. “That’ll be 50 gold.”

You counted out fifty of Sans’ coins and gave them to the woman who recounted them— for safe measure of course! It wasn’t because she didn’t trust you or anything. Afterwards, she placed your items into a plastic bag and watched you put both the plastic bag and Sans’ pouch of money into your knapsack. You quickly grabbed Flowey and hightailed it out of there.

“Let’s go back to the inn. We can unload some of our stuff there and you’re smelling a little ripe.”

You lifted your brow at the daring flower before blowing a steady stream of air into his face. Flowey grimaced. You walked into the inn and past the innkeeper. You headed up the stairs and proceeded down the hall to room number three. Once there, you inserted the key into the door and wrenched the thing open. It was a little harder than expected.

The room was mediocre at best but the bed was large and there was a window that had enough room for Flowey to soak up the natural light. However, there was not much sunlight in the Underground so you wondered how the flower could photosynthesize regularly. You voiced this concern to the three-foot-tall flower as he rested on the desk near the window.

“It’s…a difficult process,” he coughed and refused to talk about it in any more detail.

 There was a bathroom with a small shower as well. You eagerly found yourself in there since Flowey decided to take the first look-out shift. You saw his body rotating every so often from the window to the room’s entrance. Both the front door and the window were locked tightly as well. The door to the bathroom was left slightly ajar so that Flowey could yell if any intruders were spotted without seeing your nether regions.

You stripped down and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed as you did so. Once you were in and covered, you turned the dial for the hot water. It came out cold and you yelped, stepping out of the spray for a few seconds before returning as it warmed. Once it was scalding hot, you turned the dial for the cold water until it was at a manageable heat. You admired the fair assortment of hotel shampoos and shower gels and chose some that smelt nice.

“Hey, kid, Smiley Trashbag is outside.”

“How did he earn your distrust?” You yelled as you washed yourself. Over the spray, you could hear the flower scoff.

“He attacked Chara,” he replied simply.

“Is that it?” You were mildly surprised but you understood long before that the flower easily held a grudge.

He didn’t answer you though. Not that you expected him to. Once you finished, you turned the water off and reached for a towel on the towel rack. You dried yourself off thoroughly. You had brought your bag in. Inside was your blue sweater with purple stripes as well as your jean shorts. Once you were dressed, you towel dried your hair and brushed it out.

“Are you decent?” The flower called out uncertainly. “I think Smiley Trashbag is awaiting your presence.”

“Do you want to come down with me?”

“Hell no. I’ll stay up here, thank you very much. If you get killed, it was nice knowing you see you after the next Reset!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

You unloaded your pack and were completely surprised at how much it carried. Seriously, it was basically a black hole. You left the horrible drawings in the drawer of the bedside table, the pie on the same table (after telling Flowey not to eat it, of course), the spray bottle on the desk beside the flower, and the map was left for Flowey to examine because he doubted the legitimacy of the document. He took the wax crayons himself so that he could plot the ideal route through the Underground. The crossbow and arrows were left in the confines of the bag for safekeeping. You wrapped the gray scarf around your neck before pondering if you should take one or both Cinnamon Bunnies with you. You decided to take one and put it in the left pocket of your shorts so you didn’t waste them too quickly. You also hid Sans’ money in the right pocket.

The flower looked up from the map. “Keep yourself busy for half an hour. I should be done by then.”

You nodded and snatched the key. You unlocked the door and left the room. You locked it behind you and noticed one of the innkeeper’s children playing in the halls. You avoided the child since your last confrontation with other children went badly. You stopped by the counter when you noticed that a Save Point had magically appeared. The grabbed hold of it and Saved at the first opportunity. This is only because the innkeeper was looking at you funny. _(The relaxing atmosphere of the hotel…it fills you with Determination.)_

You went outside and shivered when a cold gust of wind passed.

Sans caught your eye, “’sup? do i give you the _chills?_ ”

You rolled your eyes and his smile widened. “c’mon. don’t give me the _cold_ shoulder.”

“I see that you still have those horrible jokes.” You froze and went over the words that you just said. I see…I-cy…goddamn it.

Sans snorted, “that was pretty good.”

“It was unintentional.”

“we need to talk. so you’re coming with me to grillby’s.”

“Grillby’s? Is that the name of that bar over there?”

“it’s more like a dive but yeah.”

You passed him the bag of money. “You’re paying.”

He took the money and stuffed it into the lining of his jacket. “i have a tab over there and even though grillby threatens me when i don’t pay it, he hasn’t killed me yet.”

You furrowed your brow but walked beside him down the path. You saw that same group of kids from earlier and they stopped what they were doing to look at you. When Sans met their stare, their eyes fell. Sans’ sneakers squeaked as they landed in the snow.

“Are those shoes actually waterproof?” You asked casually.

“hon, i’m a skeleton. i don’t really feel the cold as much as you do.”

You chuckled lightly. As you headed towards the dive, you saw someone being thrown out into the snow. He was yelling drunkenly from the snow pile at Greater Dog who just panted and marched back in.

“aw, that guy.” Sans snickered. “he’s a pissy drunk but grillby keeps giving him drinks.”

“Isn’t that just fueling the problem?”

“that doesn’t matter for grillby. he likes making a profit, sweetheart, he isn’t going to be too worried about fueling some guy’s alcoholic tendencies.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t done one of your disappearing acts,” you remarked as he turned his head sharply. “You teleport in and out of places right? Why didn’t you just teleport us both to the dive?”

“my powers are a little tricky. let’s just say that.”

“You don’t trust me, Sans?” You whispered, a devilish smile flooding your features. You knew enough about him to understand that he wouldn’t open up to you very easily. You’d just have to crack him open then.

“you give me no reason to. besides, you’re a human. not really a reliable race, you know?”

You noted that a bead of sweat had started slowly rolling down his skull. Once you reached Grillby’s, Sans led you in. This time, he didn’t hold the door open for you. With a quick gesture of his head, he motioned you towards a booth. You sat on the upholstery.

“burgers or fries?” He asked. It was late and you weren’t too hungry so you went with the fries. Sans left without another word to go tell the purple fire elemental at the bar. You guessed that he was Grillby. A crow was nestled on his shoulder and you wondered how it didn’t burn to death. The elemental’s scowl was clear and the flames even implied teeth, although you were fairly certain Grillby didn’t have any actual pointed fangs.

Sans returned and settled down in front of you. “now, where should i start? around a week ago, i woke up to  a fairly normal day. boss started his rounds early, i got up too late to make it to my sentry shift, when I did make it, I decided to take a nap. after my nap, i went here for lunch. then, i’d make it back, get yelled at by boss. watch him get mad about something undyne did. soon, i’d come back here for dinner. it usually goes that way.”

You furrowed your brow. Why was he telling you this? Regardless, he continued.

“around a week ago, i noticed something peculiar. the day started repeating itself. same dialogues, same actions, same options, everything was exactly the same. at first, i thought it was some weird form of déjà vu. some odd thing that caused my imagination to recreate past experiences. then, there was a huge gap. five days, i believe. then, it happened yesterday night. you were still in toriel’s care.”

You nodded. This sounded oddly familiar to you. You had an epiphany. Sans remembered the last Reset. He must have put two and two together to find out that you were the one changing the outcomes all along. You had no idea that this ability could spread to such a wide spectrum. You thought it only affected your memories but it seemed that Sans was also being victimized.

“all day today, frisk. all day, i have been forced to relive every single moment. do you know how tiring that is? i think you know what i’m getting at. you’re a smart kid. i figured it out after i killed you. you came back and you remembered. you’re the anomaly. you’re the selfish little prick that keeps manipulating space and time to your advantage. i’m already sick of it, dollface, and if i hadn’t made a certain promise to someone earlier today, i would’ve killed you again and again until you couldn’t change your fate anymore.”

“I don’t think you know how this works!” You laughed. “I can’t exactly stop it. I die, I Reset automatically. I can only choose not to Reset time until my last Save Point when I’m alive. As you must know, I die quite a bit.”

“but it wasn’t just you was it? earlier, before you fell, there were certain points in time where i felt that exact same feeling of déjà vu.”

“That was Flowey. He probably used that power a lot more than I did.”

“i thought so,” he murmured as a young waitress approached. She placed a tray of fries in front of you both. “since i’m paying, i ordered one tray instead of two.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“reset, that’s what that ability is called?” Another bead of sweat rolled down lazily.

“That’s what we call it.”

“did you have it before you fell?” More sweat was starting to accumulate on his skull.

“I didn’t,” you replied coolly.

“is there any way we can stop it?”

“Not that I know of.”

His fist slammed against the table top and all eyes turned to you both. Sans’ eye sockets were black, save for the red magic that flared brightly. “you’re playing with lives, kid. what give you the right to play god?”

“If you were in my place, you would do that same thing.”

“you don’t know anything!” He shouted as he snared your soul. He drove your head into the table top, causing you to cry out in pain. “you don’t fucking understand anything about me! don’t you dare assume that i’m anything like you, you little bitch!”

Your head was throbbing, your nose was bleeding, but still you needed more from him. “Calm down. I was just kidding.”

“do you think this is a game?!” He cried, raising you up and hitting you against the ceiling with one straight movement of his arm. He slammed you against the walls a couple of times before hitting you against the table top. You felt some bones break on impact. “if this is some twisted joke to you, you’re not funny.”

With that, he drove five femurs into your skull.

Your head was still pounding when you found yourself in the Void. You got to your feet and brushed yourself off. In front of you, the Reset button was glowing. You lifted your hand and paused for a moment before letting it fall back to your side. Presently, in the face of death, you were indifferent. Indifferent to the gift given to you by your inordinate amount of Determination. Your nonchalance towards the Void; towards this temporary haven between timelines was becoming unforgivable.

“Chara!” You called out. “Do you have any pieces of advice for me this time?”

You were met with silence. “The silent treatment? Are you kidding me?”

You were talking to yourself. How the mighty have fallen.  You spun on your heel and waited for a reply. When none was given and all you could hear were the echoes of your previous comments, you ran further into the Void.

“Two can play at that game!”

The further you got, the colder it seemed to get. It came to the point that you were breathing on your frozen palms and rubbing them together for warmth. A numbness had settled in your lower body from your toes to about mid-calf. Stubbornly, you kept inching further into the abyss that settled before you. The Reset button hovered uncertainly around your person. The numbness became more prevalent with every step forward.

Suddenly, a ripple passed over the Void. It was like watching static on a television set. There one moment, gone the next. You halted any movement. The numbness had started to take on a whole new pressure. It was as if someone was adding weights onto your shoulders, making your body heavier and heavier until you dropped down on one knee. It was so oppressive that your breathing felt forced and laboured.

The paper-thin Void was starting to [ERROR.] The Resets were becoming too numerous [EXTRACTING FILE FAILED. MOST LIKELY CAUSED BY LOW MEMORY (LOW DISK SPACE FOR SWAPPING FILE) OR CORRUPTED CABINET FILE.]

**Dark Darker**

[THE PROGRAM HAS ENCOUNTERED AN UNRECOVERABLE ERROR.

PRESS OK_

*EXCEPTION CODE: EXCEPTION_ACCESS_VALIDATION

*EXCEPTION ADDRESS: 0x3345a4af

*EXCEPTION MODULE: UNDERFELL]

**The Shadows only get thicker**

[YOU CAN REQUEST SUPPORT.]

**Come**

[TO COLLECT DATA TO SUBMIT TO UNDERFELL TECHNICAL SUPPORT, RUN “uf-support”.]

**Closer**

[AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED.]

Frisk! What’s going on? [ERROR]! Get a hold of yourself! The Void is collapsing! You have to get out of here! You summoned up your [FILE COULD NOT BE FOUND] but your efforts were wasted. The Reset button glitched, half of it disappearing for an instant when you tried to press it.

**Become lost for all eternity**

[THE CURRENT APPLICATION WILL BE TERMINATED.

PRESS ANY KEY TO TERMINATE THE CURRENT APPLICATION.

PRESS CTRL+ALT+DEL AGAIN TO RESET. YOU WILL LOSE ANY UNSAVED INFORMATION IN ALL APPLICATIONS.

PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE_]

“Kid! Wake up!” Flowey screeched, shaking you with his outstretched roots. You gasped and sat up quickly. Sweat and tears were running down your face as Flowey grabbed you and forced you to lie down again. “Calm down! It’s okay! What the hell happened?”

“Where am I? What Reset is this?” You rasped. Your voice sounded strained. Had you been screaming?

“You just went out with Sans, remember? You must have Saved before going! We’re in the lobby of the inn!”

“Where’s the innkeeper?”

“She ran off with her kid. She didn’t want the kid seeing you spasm like that.”

“Spasm?”

Flowey’s face fell. “It was like you were having a seizure or something. You couldn’t control yourself. The innkeeper came to get me to try and get you to stop. Should I call someone with medical expertise? We don’t have many around here.”

“Stop freaking out, I’m fine.” You assured him, wiping the bodily liquids off your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “We need to start preparing for the journey ahead. How did the map go?”

“Are you sure you’re in a good enough state? We can wait it out for a couple of days; keep Saving at regular intervals.” You were getting to your feet and Flowey sighed. “This is the curse of Determination. Those who have it seem to forget that they are still human. Shit! I forgot about that! I have to redraw the route because you had to go and get yourself killed by Smiley fucking Trashbag!”

The flower grumbled as he pulled himself up the stairs and you stalked him quietly. What happened to the Void? Was it still going to be there when you Reset? Had it been destroyed? There were so many questions and so few answers. There was also this issue of timelines that Sans had briefly highlighted. How far did your influence cross? You had never thought of each Reset as its own separate timeline. Each one was just a trial run until you found the best option to get out of a certain situation. You hadn’t expected Sans to be so affected by the repetition.

“Flowey? Have you ever been to the Void?”

Flowey stiffened. “Yes.”

“Do you know what it is?”

Flowey hushed you and pulled you into your room without a second word. “Don’t talk about that place so liberally! Someone could hear you.”

“I could always Reset and have them not remember.”

“We can’t Reset so much for insignificant things! You never know what could happen if we abuse this power. Determination isn’t necessarily limitless.”

“So what is the Void?”

Flowey sighed and returned to his boot, “The Void is a space where time has stopped. Where forgotten things go. The Void is unaffected by the regular stream of the timelines. I’m not really sure what it is but I can be certain that it has existed far longer than we have.”

“Have you ever met anything in the Void?”

“Can’t say I have.” He shook his head. “Have you?”

You ignored the question completely. He seemed unfazed. Flowey glanced out the window and gasped. “Hey, kid. Come look at this, will you?”

You shuffled over and glanced out the window. Surprisingly, outside was Sans. He was speaking to Papyrus. “He’s snitching.”

“Oh fuck. We’re so screwed!” Flowey yelped, glancing back and forth from the window to you.

“Stop freaking out. You’re going to give me a migraine!”

Suddenly, a giant bone pierced the building. It came in straight through the floorboards. You hoped that the rabbit woman died. An entire ribcage burst from the ceiling acting almost like the arm of a claw machine. It reached out and tried to grab you but you ran out from its reach. Flowey yowled at you angrily and you returned for him. You picked his boot up and ran out of the room. You were glad Flowey had forgotten to get you to lock it.

“HUMAN! COME OUT OF HIDING! IT’LL BE SO MUCH EASIER TO KILL YOU—I MEAN, ‘HELP’ YOU IF YOU DO SO!”

“uh, boss, i thought that you meant the first part—”

“SANS. HUMANS ARE ATTRACTED TO NOT DYING A HORRIBLE DEATH. DON’T DISTRACT ME.”

“gotcha boss. i’m just here to enjoy the show.”

You saw Papyrus look at hiss brother condescendingly from a crack in the window. Then, his sockets locked onto your person. “AHA! HUMAN!”

You sprinted down the stairs as another series of smaller bones sailed through the walls. Once you reached the lobby, you heard the ceiling groan above you.

“Kid! Find cover now!” Flowey cried as you dove underneath the counter. You knelt down and bent over Flowey so that he was hidden in your chest. Then, you covered your head with your arms. The rafters crashed to the ground. One rafter split the counter but you and Flowey were left unharmed because the countertop took most of the damage. You needed a weapon and you needed one fast. You took Flowey in your arms and shimmied out from underneath the counter. Looking around the wreckage, you saw your backpack on top of some broken pieces of wood. You made your way, climbing over pieces of the destroyed building and underneath others. Papyrus and Sans were quiet; perhaps they were trying to hunt you down and finish you off humanly. You highly doubted that theory. You reached your backpack, left Flowey on the floor, pulled out the cross bow with one hand, and picked up as many arrows as you could hold with the other.

You cocked the crossbow by pulling the string back very slowly. You tried your best to place an even amount of pressure on both sides of the barrel but you guessed that your dominant hand had an unfair advantage. You would be slightly off-center. You placed an arrow in the barrel anyhow. You lifted the crossbow and eyed the scope, breathing evenly. You could only hear Flowey’s whimpers and the increasing tempo of your heart.

Your hands were getting clammy but you couldn’t let yourself release the crossbow. So you waited, locked and loaded. A bone made its way into your scope and you shot it. You didn’t anticipate the backlash and hissed when the crossbow hit your collarbone. The bone was then wrapped in a blue coat of magic. The arrow was destroyed upon impact.

“Light blue magic! If you stay still, it’ll go right through you!” Flowey gasped.

“I’m made of physical matter,” you growled to the flower. “I’m not sure monster magic works the same way on me.”

“Your soul will allow it to go through you without damaging you.” Flowey replied as he drew out your soul for the dawning battle.

You heard a triumphant cry from Papyrus as he practically galloped through the broken wood. “HUMAN! THERE’S NO WHERE TO RUN! SURRENDER YOUR SOUL. SANS!”

“alrighty.” Sans muttered as he picked your soul up with his red magic. Your whole body was lifted high into the air. “sorry kid.”

He tossed you out of the building and you landed face first into the snow. You moaned in pain as you sat up. Your soul was still wrapped in red magic.

“END OF THE LINE HUMAN.”

You turned your head to see Papyrus. Sans was behind the taller skeleton, pulling at Flowey while the flower smacked him with his roots. You could see how hard Papyrus would be. He was a true Boss Monster. With his brother by his side, he was even worse. It seemed that they both specialized in one type of magic. You would have to ask Flowey if they could use more in the next timeline. You couldn’t even try to run. You had broken your ankle upon impact with the ground.

Sans lifted your body with a flick of his wrist and Papyrus proceeded to skewer you on a long, thin fibula.

**You must change this world**

The world rewound and you woke up to the inn’s lobby. The rabbit woman was staring at you crossly. “Are you just going to keep staring?”

You shook your head and rushed out the door. You needed to intervene before Sans got any quick ideas. The skeleton was leaning against a pine tree. The pinpricks of light present in his sockets widened exceptionally when he saw you but they vanished just as quickly.

“you really are an idiot you know that?” He murmured quietly. You pulled out the pouch of money that was, once again, in your pocket.

“Dinner at Grillby’s. My treat.”

“well, you’re using my money so technically, it’s my treat.” He said as he took the money.

You walked to Grillby’s in a tense bout of silence. You could feel him analyzing you every now and then. He was probably trying to hypothesize what your intent was. A cold gust of wind caused you to wrap your arms around your body. Sans didn’t try to crack a joke this time.

You entered Grillby’s and Sans motioned you towards the booth again. You shook your head and pointed to two available stools at the bar. If Sans had eyebrows, they would’ve risen to his non-existent hairline but he didn’t deny your request. You both walked up to the bar and pulled yourselves up onto the stools. Grillby sizzled angrily at Sans but Sans dropped the pouch of money onto the table. He looked up and winked audaciously at the fire elemental. Grillby grinned and took the bag.

“hey, you think you gonna, uh, reset any time soon? i’d like that money back.”

“So you’ll make an exception to the Resets as long as it benefits you?” You chuckled and he cleared his throat.

“let’s just say that i’ll make an exception when that time comes.”

You smirked and hummed as a confirmation. “Get me a burger this time.”

He barked a laugh, “changing up the menu? i’ll get in on that. grillbz! two burgz!”

Grillby sighed but disappeared into the kitchen. It seemed that Sans was in more of an amicable mood. His good mood could easily change back into a guarded one if you weren’t careful. You needed to tread lightly. One way to do so was to try and avoid mentioning the Resets.

“so, what brings you to the underground, kiddo?”  

You pointed upwards with an extended index finger. Sans followed your finger and sighed after a moment of thought.

“that’s what i thought. most of the kids that fell down here wanted to get back up again too. what’s the appeal though? the surface seems kinda dull.”

You nodded mutely.

 “do you have anyone waiting for you up there?”

You shook your head. Sans seemed even more befuddled.

“why the hell are you trying so hard then?”

You shrugged and then chose to speak. “There’s no other option, really. I just have to keep moving forward. Maybe if I go far enough, I’ll get somewhere.”

“seems kind of silly if you ask me.” he responded as the burgers came. He quieted for a moment, thanked the waitress in a saucy tone, and continued once she was far away. “you have to make options. they don’t just appear out of thin air. you have to make it happen.”

When you didn’t respond, he changed the topic of conversation. “are you a ketchup or mustard kind of kid?”

You grinned and took the mustard from the edge of the table. You took the top bun off of your burger and wrinkled your nose in disgust when you saw the tomato resting on a single leaf of lettuce. You picked the tomato up between your forefinger and thumb and placed it on your plate before coating the top of your bun in mustard. When you finished, Sans took the condiment bottle from you and removed the cap before chugging some of it down his throat. You gaped for a second but quickly closed your mouth and rolled your eyes.

Sans hesitated for a moment before dropping the container of mustard and looking at you from the corner of his peripheral vision. “kid. i feel like I should be honest with you.”

He felt like he should be honest? How was that even possible? Your relationship seemed to get better and better each time you Reset. “do you know anything about why you’re being hunted? did that flower tell you the truth?”

You shook your head. Flowey hadn’t mentioned much besides the barrier and even then, he only mentioned it because he thought you were me. You had no idea.

“well, long time ago, monsters were sealed down in the underground by your kind. the spell sealing us down here is called the barrier. the barrier can only be destroyed when a few conditions are met. any being with the souls of both a human and a monster can pass through the barrier but the barrier can only be broken with the power of seven human souls.” He paused to clear his throat and slug down some more mustard. “at the moment, the king of the underground has had six human children killed and has collected their souls for our liberation. yours will be the last one.”

Your shoulders tensed and you gritted your teeth. You slowly glanced up at Sans who was watching your reactions studiously.

“you’re little plant friend has kept all of this from you, i guess.” He laughed and shook his head. “i have reason to believe that your little piece of vegetation wants to take your soul for himself and he’s just manipulating you in order to get you to give it to him personally.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wingding Translations (for those who can see them on their laptops and or Internet browsers):  
> *Dark Darker  
> The Shadows only get thicker  
> Come  
> Closer  
> Become lost for all eternity.  
> *You must change this world


	6. Every Rose Has Its Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You nodded courtly before taking the spray bottle off of the counter and disappearing into the bathroom. You turned the tap on and filled the bottle up before screwing the top back on. Once you finished, you reemerged into the room.  
> “I know that you’re lying by the way.” Flowey grumbled. “I already know that Sans probably told you a whole lot more than that! It’s so obvious!”  
> As a response, you sprayed him. Flowey yelped and stared at you angrily. “What the hell are you doing, human?”  
> You sprayed him again and watched as he hissed like the creature from Alien. “Stop doubting me. It’s getting you nowhere.”  
> “Stop that!” The flower cried as you put the spray bottle down. He glowered at the infernal device silently.  
> “Go to sleep. You’re being hysterical.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Can't say that there are much more than the ones I mentioned in the last chapters for now.

You dropped your burger down onto the plate in front of you. You reasoned that Sans could be right about Flowey manipulating you in order to get your soul but the thought didn’t sit well with you. You were using Flowey as a means of escape as well. That just made you both similarly driven. Still, deep in your heart, was a painful feeling of surprise.

Why did you feel so betrayed?

Sans sat calmly, gazing at his burger aimlessly. You wondered if he was planning on eating or if he had just been humoring you when he had asked you to dinner during this timeline. He didn’t seem inclined to make the first move, so you persisted.

Idly, you asked, “What makes you say that?”

“kinda obvious. everyone has an alternative motive down here, kid, even a harmless little potted plant. Pretty sure it isn’t telling the whole truth.”

“Flowey mentioned the barrier once,” you responded. You took a bite of your burger, chewed the morsel thoughtfully, and swallowed. “But that was when he thought I was Chara.”

“thought you were the first child?” He snorted. “look, you may look like them, but that little tyke was a whole different person.”

“I’m aware.” You objected. “They were the pacifist.”

Sans laughed sarcastically, “they were hardly innocent. they played the prince like a harp. how would that little flower of yours know about chara though?”

He trailed off with a shake of his head. His last words spurned the gears in your mind forward. “What happened to them?”

Now, Sans seemed intrigued. He pushed his plate aside and leaned across the table. “maybe around a hundred years ago, there was a human that fell down here. they looked like you but were disgustingly nice. after causing the former queen to have a meltdown, making the prince their personal slave, ruining my relationship with boss, and making undyne a goddamn pussy, they died. The Prince convinced them to eat the golden flowers that are littered in the brighter zones of the underground. the poison got them. shame, I say, i would’ve loved to get my hands on them.”

You knew better than to ask about his brother. You would rather him start trusting you than get impaled by summoned bones. “But you didn’t collect their soul?”

“prince asriel did.”

That name sounded familiar to you. Your mind clicked. It was the name of the person I was telling you not to kill! “Asriel, huh.”

“yup. kid took the human’s soul and tried to bring their corpse back to the surface world. the humans caught the prince and attacked him. made sense since they must’ve thought that he was a human killer or something. his tininess wasn’t the sharpest tool of the bunch. died in the king’s arms. the king announced that if any human were to fall, their soul would be extracted and used to open the barrier.”

“What happens if the barrier breaks?”

“we wage war upon the human race. pillage, kill, capture, the whole shebang.”

You took another bite of your burger and he made an amused sound and continued, “you don’t really care, do you?”

“Like I said, my only interest is in moving forward. I would do that even if it brings humanity as I know it to an end. However, it seems that I don’t have the best soul to extract. Dying isn’t so easy with my newfound trick.”

He hummed. “guess that plan’ll have to wait for a couple more years then. until another human falls.”

You pushed your now empty plate away and Sans called over the waitress. Upon seeing that the skeleton hadn’t actually eaten any of the food on his plate, the girl scolded him on wasting her and her father’s time creating a meal. Her green flaring head hissed and crackled. Grillby fixed the glasses on his face but never said a word. Sans paid the girl extra and forced you out the door like a bat out of hell.

“Sans!” The girl yelled at the top of her lungs as you exited. “This money is fucking fake!”

He grinned as he pulled you around the corner of town and you looked him with irked annoyance. “dollface, if she wanted to kill me, she would’ve done it by now. this town is way too small to hide in. go upstairs, get some sleep, and try to get some more information about that little buttercup while yer at it. move forward if you think it’ll get you anywhere. i think it might be a waste of time.”

“Thank you, Sans.” You replied as Sans tensed under the praise. Your smile widened and you hugged the monster. You felt his magic pulsing rhythmically throughout his body. You felt his breath stutter against your neck. Unbeknownst to him, you passed your hand underneath his baggy jacket and shirt and pressed it against his ribcage.

“kid, what are you—”

 Your hand went around his ribs and up into his chest cavity. Suddenly, his entire being shivered when your fingers brushed his soul, encircling it. You sighed contentedly and tightened your grasp slightly, causing him to keen softly. “Don’t think I’ll just forgive you for killing me twice just because you gave me some useful information. I’m a tough buy.”

You stepped back quickly and made your way towards the inn. Before turning, you saw his eye burning with fearsome red magic. You gazed over your shoulder after hearing a hiss in the air around you. Sans was gone. The innkeeper had left for the night, it seemed. You opened the door quickly and climbed up the stairs. The light in your room was still on, notifying you that Flowey was most likely awake and waiting for you. You saw that you were correct when you opened up the door and the flower’s wide eyes were staring holes into you.

“Well?” He asked expectantly.

“Well, what?”

“What happened between you and Sans?”

“Nothing.” Why would anything have happened anyways? He was acting like you and Sans were high school sweethearts having gone out to a make-out cove. “We talked, we left.”

“You’re leaving out a lot of key elements!” Flowey spat. “What did you guys even talk about?”

“The barrier. He told me about it.” His motivation for saying anything about the barrier would remain unknown to the flower.

Flowey nodded bitterly but said nothing. “So you know basically everything about how we all got trapped here? That’s really it?”

You nodded courtly before taking the spray bottle off of the counter and disappearing into the bathroom. You turned the tap on and filled the bottle up before screwing the top back on. Once you finished, you reemerged into the room.

“I know that you’re lying by the way.” Flowey grumbled. “I already know that Sans probably told you a whole lot more than that! It’s so obvious!”

As a response, you sprayed him. Flowey yelped and stared at you angrily. “What the hell are you doing, human?”

You sprayed him again and watched as he hissed like the creature from Alien. “Stop doubting me. It’s getting you nowhere.”

“Stop that!” The flower cried as you put the spray bottle down. He glowered at the infernal device silently.

“Go to sleep. You’re being hysterical.”

With that, you turned off the lights, slipped out of your shoes, and made your way over the inn room’s bed. You untucked the sheets and fell down onto the bed with a sigh before slipping underneath them. Flowey remained completely silent but, once your eyes threatened to fall closed, you heard a faint voice echo through the room.

“Goodnight, human.”

That’s right. He had never asked for your name.

 

“You know, Chara,” A little white furred monster rasped as he carried you. “When I said that this world is kill or be killed, I meant it, you know?”

You narrowed your eyes at him solemnly. “Just because you pick fights with everyone in the Underground doesn’t mean I have to, Asriel. I’m going to try and save everyone.”

Asriel laughed. His amusement was clearly shown. “Yeah, go ahead and try to save pieces of crap like Smiley Trashbag. I won’t stop you. You have a death wish after all.”

“It’s not that! I just…feel bad for him, that’s all.”

“So you pity him?” Asriel shouted with a wide grin. “That’s so much better, human! He’s a charity case! I wonder how he’d feel about that!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!”

He dropped you down into the snow and kneeled down beside you. He began to examine your knee. “Your wounds aren’t fatal.”

“I told you, it was just a scratch.”

“Well then, if you say so!” Asriel replied, getting to his feet smoothly. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He ran off and you called after him. “Hey! Wait! Where are you going?”

Asriel didn’t reply as he proceeded further away from you. Now that you were completely alone, every voice that came from deep in the forest seemed amplified. You gasped as the trees rustled and pulled your legs towards your chest, making yourself as small as possible. You swore you heard footsteps but blamed it on your over-active imagination and your lack of sleep. Snowdin Inn would not allow you to sleep there since you were a human. Asriel had tried to sneak you in but you had gotten caught and the innkeeper nearly shot the two of you as you escaped.

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to think of your home, of your mother. You thought of days picking buttercups and eating fresh homegrown vegetables. You thought of your father and his hunting trips and your brother, who worked the fields. You missed your proper bed. You sighed softly.

“human.”

You opened your eyes to see Sans. The dark shadows creasing his eye sockets were even worse than yours. He awkwardly reached into his pocket before withdrawing a Cinnamon Bunny and tossing it to you. You gratefully accepted the treat and bit into it happily as he sat down a few paces away.

“you know, i shouldn’t be helping you like this.”

“Thank you.”

“don’t say that. i hate gratitude.”

“Sorry.”

“can’t say i like apologies either. stay away from papyrus and we’ll be fine, capiche?”

“You really care about him but he treats you so badly,” you trailed off uncertainly. You knew that it was still a fresh wound for Sans and you would rather not ruin the trust you had built between the two of you.

“brothers don’t pick each other. we aren’t the best match sometimes. paps works hard and i hardly work.”

“But you were the former Royal Scientist’s right hand monster! You had to work hard to get there, Sans! He pretends like that’s nothing. It isn’t your fault that you can’t control when you fall asleep.” You protested with an irritated frown.

“heh. ruined that opportunity for myself. now, i work a measly sentry job. i can hardly keep myself awake at the best of times and i can’t sleep at the worst of times. not your problem though. just keep going. keep that prince with you. you guys are the only hope we have at getting out of here.”

 You were taken aback by his tone. You had never seen the skeleton as emotionally vulnerable. Suddenly, his head whipped around like he had been stung by an invisible bug. “don’t you dare say fucking anything about this, human, or else I will end you!”

“Well that moment ended fairly quickly.” You murmured sarcastically as Sans pulled out an ice pick from his pocket and held it threateningly. You then realized that it had been stuffed in the same pocket as the Cinnamon Bunny. He had been deciding whether to kill you or help you.

“don’t tempt me, brat. this ‘moment’ never happened.”

Then, his magic flared and he disappeared.

“Human!” Cried Asriel as he rushed towards you. “You better run from the Lord of Hyperdeath, Smiley Trashbag! Did that bastard hurt you?”

You shook your head and Asriel scowled. “Good. You’re my only ticket out of here. I’m not letting someone like him ruin my chance at getting to the surface.”

You lowered your head so that Asriel couldn’t see the guilt in your eyes. It helped that Asriel seemed completely ignorant to social cues. He didn’t understand that you were using him just as much as he was using you. You would get to the surface no matter what the stakes were.

No matter who stood in your way.

You mentally apologized to Sans. It seemed that his wish of you and Asriel finding a way to free all of monsterkind would have to be destroyed.

It was still dark when you awoke. Then, it occurred to you that you were still trapped underground and there wouldn’t be a sun to help determine what time of day it was. You heard laughter and voices ringing from the town below so you resolved that it was about time you woke up. Flowey’s body was curled inside his boot. You supposed that he was still asleep. The dream you had was another memory of mine that you decided to analyze it in the shower. You were indulging yourself since you weren’t sure when you might have another one.

You tip-toed into the bathroom and started up the shower. Then you striped down and hopped in. You always had your best thoughts while you were in the shower. Asriel’s mannerisms in the dream seemed incredibly familiar to you. It was almost as if he had repeated words that you had already been told. You squinted as you tried to decide who reminded you of the floppy eared monster but no one came to mind. Toriel reminded you of him physically but their attitudes were polar opposites. Whereas Toriel was cool and collected, Asriel was hot-tempered and passionate. The information you were given about Sans was also quite interesting.  He hadn’t always been so nihilistic. He had hoped that I could help them.

But I killed that hope.

It seemed that your ability to Reset was also pushing the knife deeper and deeper into his sense of hope, making it almost inexistent. 

You leaned your head back against the tiled wall of the shower and sighed. You also remembered him talking about his sleep schedule and his former job. Sans had been someone that Papyrus had been proud of, once. Presently, the two were steps short of clawing each other’s throats out. You reasoned that his irregular sleeping pattern had caused him to drop his former job and now, with the tranquility of the sentry station and the lack of people visiting the Underground, it was getting worse. You had seen the dark shadows for yourself. He wasn’t sleeping well, if at all.

It reminded you of one of the foster children you had lived with. The young boy was plagued with insomnia at times and slept at all hours during the day. But the time he did spend sleeping was plagued with horrible night terrors and when he was awake, he had dream-like hallucinations.

You decided that it would be best not to ask him about it.

When you stepped out of the shower, you noticed that there was a pile of clothes near the edge of the bathtub. Flowey had been up-and-about, it seemed. He had picked out the red and black sweater again. You wondered why he seemed to like the old thing so much.

Then, as you fingered the hem of the sweater. You had a sudden epiphany. Flowey was Asriel. It was so obvious. Flowey seemed keen on protecting my image and that surge of emotion would be self-explanatory if Flowey was Asriel. The ‘kill or be killed’ thing or his habit of calling Sans ‘Smiley Trashbag’ would also be explained. You wondered if Sans knew and he had sent you on this goose chase just to avoid telling you himself. While the idea was a possibility, it didn’t seem to fit Sans’ style. It was more likely that the nearly apathetic skeleton had a theory about Flowey having Asriel’s memories and had sent you out to prove his point. The goose chase was probably only to make his day slightly brighter.

You scowled, a feeling of annoyance festering and growing in your core. It was too early in the morning to be so grumpy so you tugged on the rest of your clothes and exited the bathroom. Flowey was once again looking out the window but his body was turned slightly towards you, telling you that he had heard you exit. You weren’t really sure whether you should reveal that you knew about his past life.

“You’re tense. Everything okay?” The flower asked, making you jump slightly.

“No, I was just caught off guard.” You replied quickly. You wondered if the flower noticed your state of unease but didn’t comment upon it. “I’m going out soon.”

“Really? Where are you going? Are you sure you won’t run into Papyrus?”

“I’ll Save beforehand so I’ll be back.”

“Be careful. We still don’t know how the Resets impact the timelines.”

You nodded and the room returned to its silent state. You remained still for a few moments, basking in the oppressiveness before quickly putting on your sneakers and fleeing. Of course, you wouldn’t call it fleeing but you left the room in a _very_ brisk pace. Your attitude towards this was kind of surprising considering you lied about not being able to talk for years and hardly flinched while doing it. It seemed that the memories you witnessed were causing you to think more like me. My emotions and my experiences were becoming more natural to you after viewing the memories and this was only the second memory.

You gritted your teeth and went downstairs where the innkeeper was sweeping with a ratty old broom. You avoided the woman and Saved. The woman looked at you oddly and stopped her cleaning.

“Why do you keep touching my stack of guest registration books like that?” She asked and you stilled. Could they not see the Save Points?

You cleared your throat. “I like the feeling of old books?”

Then you left, leaving the rabbit woman to wonder whether she should hide the pile.

You marched down the walkway and turned to walk further into town when a hand fell on your shoulder.

“man, kid. stop running. i can dig someone trying to get healthy but don’t pull me into it, doll.”

You looked at the stout skeleton for a moment before narrowing your eyes and walking ahead. He sighed in mild agitation.

“you gonna tell me what i did wrong or am i gonna have to guess?”

You were doing your best to ignore the other as he fumbled after you. Suddenly, the shuffling sound his slippers made stopped and you turned your head slightly in order to see over your shoulder.

“kid. tell me.” His voice was more of a growl that sent chills down your spine. He was being serious and you really didn’t want to repeat this day any more than necessary.

You faced him and crossed your arms over your chest. “You lied to me.”

“what do you mean?” he asked in a normal, almost bored tone before his voice dropped an octave. “i’ve lied to a lot of people, kiddo, i can’t keep up with them all.”

“When were you going to tell me that you had a theory about Flowey?”

His sockets narrowed smugly and he lifted his chin, “not as dumb as you play it out to be, sweetheart. guess i was right about that too. the prince is a flower. now, that’s a laugh.”

“Why is that?” You asked, uncrossing your arms but your figure remained straightened and almost abnormally stiff. He took this as an indication that he could approach you but understood that he was not entirely forgiven. By the way your hands were clenched tightly into fists, it was probably for the best. He stayed a good few feet behind you but matched your pace as you continued forward towards Grillby’s.

“first child died after eating the same type of flowers the prince turned into. buttercups. actually, i guess i should just call ‘em ranunculus since they’re more of a hybrid breed. i’ve never read of surface ranunculus reaching up to four feet high. ‘sides the point, i made you do my dirty work. good job.”

“That’s it?” You growled and he chortled, it sounded more like a series of deep throated snickers.

“if you’re searching for a soul-wrenching apology, kid, you’re looking at the wrong skeleton. man, i thought you weren’t like the first child but you’re starting to sound like ‘em too!”

Your eyes widened and you fell out of rhythm. So much so that Sans bumped into your back. You stared down at your hands in shock as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Was it really that apparent? Sans made a shocked sound at your sudden silence and he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around so you could face him. He must’ve saw the expression on your face because his sockets widened and his grin dropped. The moment passed and you had steeled your expression with the steely poker face that you had been building since you were a toddler.

Sans looked as if he wanted to say something but the words seemed to die in his being before he resolved not to reply. You, on the other hand, needed to gain more control on this situation. It was quickly getting too personal.

You turned on your heel and gave him one piece of advice, “Don’t follow me.”

You passed Grillby’s when you felt a sudden burst of anger at the situation that had just occurred. You thought you had better control of yourself but the Frisk you knew was being corrupted by my memories. An apple rotting from the inside because of a burrowing worm. My existence in your body wasn’t going unnoticed. You ran past houses, two of which were larger and closer to the end of the town. Everything was becoming a hazy blur.

The snow picked up ahead. It was clinging to your clothes like white burrs. You couldn’t see far and had to block your vision with one arm to avoid getting snowy clumps in your eyes. You were surprised to see the bottom halves of two silhouettes in the distance. A few metres away from you. You kicked at the snow and discovered an abandoned stick, which you picked up. It was thicker than you thought and could probably survive a good few whacks. A projectile was thrown towards you and you dodged it, unsurprised that it was a bone.

“HUMAN. YOU’RE THE ONLY OBSTACLE BETWEEN MYSELF AND DESTINY. THERE’S NO TIME TO TALK. LET US FIGHT.”

Suddenly, with a whip of Papyrus’ arm, the snow cleared enough to see both skeleton brothers blocking your path. Sans stared at you coldly while Papyrus summoned eight more bones, each of different sizes. He swung his arm out, sending the bones straight towards you. You dodged the bigger ones and sent the smaller ones in the opposite direction by batting them with your stick. Now, it was your turn to attack. Your soul was summoned and you dashed towards Papyrus as the younger skeleton prepared his counter-attack. You aimed your attack at his ribcage and lashed out. You stopped abruptly and Papyrus smirked as he revealed his little brother with a tilt of his head.

Sans sent you flying with a flick of his fingers and Papyrus finished his preparations, sending out a new wave projectiles. One pierced the tender skin underneath your shoulder blade and you cried out in pain. You toppled to the ground. You blew your hair out of your face and pulled the slim bone from where it was lodged in your shoulder. Then, you grinned broadly at the two skeletons, effectively taunting Papyrus.

“SANS!” He yelled angrily as Sans turned to him in slight shock.

You took off, sprinting like a champ towards the brothers. Papyrus squawked, positively outraged that you had not surrendered to his absolutely evil presence.

“I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He yowled. “I WILL NOT LET YOU BEST ME!”

He summoned more bones that rose from the ground hap hazardously in your path. Some were glowing a faint blue. You had never seen this before but you recognised Sans preparing to use his magic. Red magic snared your soul and forced you towards the bones that Papyrus was creating. Sans preparing to use his magic. Red magic snared your soul and forced you towards the bones that Papyrus was creating. You narrowly avoided one but your hand brushed one of the blue ones which caused your skin to burn painfully. Sans took this as his opportunity to send you towards another nearby bone with a shocking amount of strength. This type of magic seemed to be manipulating the gravitational field around you and even though you were trying to keep yourself away from Papyrus’ summonings, Sans was leading you directly to them. You barely dodged this attack. You needed to watch them closely and try to be ready for the next one.

Sans was the first one to move, grabbing onto your soul and sending you backwards. Papyrus then began to summon another bone. You gasped, realizing you had been giving them enough time to prepare their attacks by trying to go in the opposite direction! You relaxed yourself and allowed yourself to be moved by Sans magic. You passed right over the only halfway summoned bone and right into a tree. You had gained way too much momentum. You blinked lazily, your sight was blurred. Your head pounded and you felt dizzy. Your hand rose to touch your head, grazing your scalp underneath your brown hair. You hissed as it brushed the area of impact. You inspected your hand only to see that it was dyed red.

The steady crunching of snow alerted you to either Sans or Papyrus’ arrival. The cliché evil laugh that resounded from the figure told you that it was definitely Papyrus. You tried moving but the pain made you stop in your tracks. Papyrus grabbed you by the collar and lifted you high in the air.

“WORTHLESS,” he cackled, lifting his other hand up. He smiled widely. “PUNY, PITIFUL CHILD. YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOUR FATE CANNOT BE ESCAPED, DO YOU NOT?”

“I don’t need fate,” you rasped before pointing up to the roof of the cavern that was the Underground. “All that I need is to move forward.”

At this, you saw Sans’ eyes widen from where he was standing at Papyrus’ side. Papyrus snorted. “THAT SEEMS LIKE A VERY AIMLESS LIFE. ONE THAT I WILL NOT HESITATE TO WIPE OFF THE FACE OF THIS WORLD.”

With that, he clenched his hand into a fist which caused you to be pierced with a bone that sent you straight into the Void.

 _Glad to see that this place is still here?_ I asked as you dazedly opened your eyes. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, growling into the space around you. _Stop that. Growling at me will not help me appear._

“You have no physical form?”

_When I first appeared here, I had a physical form. After years of maintaining this form and searching for a way out, I lost hope. Soon enough, my physical form disappeared._

You looked around in the inky blackness and squinted. “Did you create this place?”

I laughed. _Definitely not. This place has existed long before me. I imagine it will exist long after me. I am not the only spirit caught here. I understand that you know that now._

“You know that thing that attacked me?” You exclaimed, looking left and right. Obviously looking for _him_.

 _I have seen him but I do not know him. He hides in the darkness and speaks in hands. I have never seen his face but I know his presence. Perhaps you will find the answers you seek from another source._ I cleared my throat. _We should be putting more thought in to how we are merging together._

“That’s true. With Sans, I started becoming you! I wouldn’t have been upset if he lied! Hell, I’d be a hypocrite! I lie all the time” You laughed brokenly. You were losing parts of yourself that were critical to your sense of identity. How far would this go? Would it go so far as to destroy everything you had built up? You sighed at the unreasonableness of it all. “I don’t really care for apologies, Chara, they make everything so much more awkward!”

_I wouldn’t have let him go without an apology. You do not lie as well as you used to as well. I am a horrible liar. I had an easy time fooling Asriel because Asriel didn’t understand. If I started crying after he killed a monster, he would take it as an odd expression of gratitude._

“I think Flowey knows that I’m lying. I have to tell him the truth sooner or later.”

_He will not react well. I know that. You cannot tell him._

“This isn’t helping! Either I tell him or I leave him behind.”

_And Sans? What will you do with him?_

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “I have to move on. Get out of Snowdin before people find out about everything. We need to get out and be separate again.”

_If Asriel finds out in his state, he may just try and keep you down here. You have a better chance of getting out with Sans’ help. Once on the surface, we’ll find my body. Maybe that will cause my soul to be at peace?_

“So, what you’re implying is that you have no idea whether this will work or not?”

_Exactly; but we have to try. Now, lay low. Go back and try your best not to make a scene. You still have to decide if you’re interested in freeing the monsters or not as well._

“I don’t really care about whether they live or die.  The monsters are no cncern of mine.” You rolled your eyes. “Didn’t you go back on your promise with Asriel? You planned on taking him to the surface and getting him killed when he was up there so that the monsters wouldn’t be freed. Don’t lie to yourself, you have a disgusting existence just like me. That’s why we have the same soul! We’re the same person!”

 _Don’t try to convince me of that!_ I spat. _I tried to help them! I tried to make them see that humans could be good and that monsters could be peaceful! I only made things worse, I know that. You do not have to remind me. Leave._

You slammed your palm down on the Reset button and said, “Gladly.”

You were met with the odd expression of the innkeeper. You decided that this was probably going to be something that you saw regularly. You proceeded out the door and you looked up at your room window where Flowey was staring at you unsettlingly. You ignored it and walked over to Sans who was now smoking against the front of the inn. He looked at you, swallowed, and started coughing loudly.

When his coughing quieted, you spoke. “You’re still surprised?”

“i get a little uncomfortable when you come back to life like that, kiddo. give a guy a break.”

He exhaled a steady stream of smoke and you fanned it away with a scrunched up face. He smirked. “so i guess we aren’t gonna talk about what happened earlier? water under the bridge?”

“I don’t want to talk about it so I guess that it’s all in the past.”

“good. what do we do about his whininess up in his tower?”

“Sans, he’s a flower. I’m pretty sure he won’t do much once he finds out we know his secret.”

“i wouldn’t be so sure, dollface. i’ve been having weird dreams lately that involve that little thing.” Sans murmured, rubbing his eye and tapping his cigarette against the wall behind him.

“You really don’t sleep very well, do you?”

“nope.”

“Grillby’s?” You asked politely and Sans stared at you for a moment before snuffing out his cigarette and throwing it into the snow. You waited for him and walked side by side, something you didn’t do normally with the short skeleton.

Your Resets from then on out continued like clockwork. You would go out to Grillby’s with Sans, chat with him about various things without revealing anything personal and not commenting on how he did the same, you would leave Sans sitting in the bar, return to the hotel, pack a bag and ignore Flowey’s questioning glances, you’d fight Papyrus, learn more about his fighting style, get killed, and Reset.

You must’ve repeated the same day quite a few times since Sans was complaining passive-aggressively about being slightly muddled and Flowey’s questioning glances were turning into spiteful glares. Papyrus’ techniques had also been getting more predictable. He had a distinct attack pattern that he repeated each time you batted him since the younger skeleton brother was completely oblivious to the time skips. Sans was also starting to get easier to crack. He had been dropping hints here and there about his sleeping issues and he had even gotten comfortable enough to invite you to his sentry station for impromptu talks. He commented once about how you seemed like two different people at time and you quickly avoided the topic. Maybe he thought you were slightly bipolar or something.

He helped you with the other monsters as well. If any monster was prone to violent inclinations, Sans kept you away from them and threatened that his ‘boss’ wanted this human kept alive. He also threatened one monster that he would cut out their tongue and eat it in front of them if they so much as spoke about hurting you. Some monsters had even started calling you ‘Sans’ human’ after that. You wondered if Papyrus had ever heard of this but since his memory was wiped clean every time he killed you, you decided that it didn’t really matter.

During the present Reset, you were sitting beside Sans at the bar. You watched Grillby’s flames crackle and hiss as he performed normal tasks. Sans was being quite quiet. You wondered if he had a bad catnap but you knew that it had been the same catnap he had had two Resets ago as well. He let his mustard bottle slip from his bony fingers and onto the bar counter. You were currently eating his burger since he hadn’t shown any interest.

You looked at him before dropping the burger and wiping your hands on a disposable napkin. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or must I guess?”

“are you set on leaving?”

You made a surprised sound and he continued. “even after all this, frisk, do you still plan on moving forward?”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s all I’ve ever known, Sans. That’s always what I intended to do. Why? Do you want me to stay?”

He didn’t answer your questions. You didn’t expect him to. He got up with a chuckle, paid for your plate and his own, then left. You weren’t surprised to see him on the battle ground with his younger brother but he had avoided it since he had aided Papyrus the last time. You weren’t surprised to see that he was the one who landed the final blow with angry red eyes.

You weren’t surprised when he wasn’t in front of the inn like he had been for so many Resets before this one. You returned to your room where Flowey was curled up in his boot on the desk.

“Golly, you’re back!” The flower commented dryly as you walked in. “Are you going to talk to me now too? Gee, it’s been quite a couple of Resets. I thought Smugly Smiling Trashbag was your new best friend.”

“Flowey, I’m not going to apologize because we’d both know that I’d be lying through my teeth. You know that and I know that so don’t make me.”

“It doesn’t make me less mad, stupid!” The flower screeched, his petals ruffling around the edges. The one you had pulled out had grown in so perfectly. It was now his best petal. “I want to know what’s going on!”

You sat down on your bed and laughed. “We’ve gotten so good at lying to each other.”

That seemed to startle the flower whose eyes turned wide, “What are you talking about?”

“At pretending we care! Let me be honest with you, just for a moment. I was planning on stomping on you as soon as all three of us got through to the surface. None of you monsters have a place up there. I know that you’re leading me to the barrier to kill me and take my soul. That way, you’d have a monster soul and a human soul!” Why are you telling him this?

The flower’s face blanked and his expression was replaced by something you couldn’t read but he had yet to speak. So you continued in his place. “I know about your little secret. Prince Asriel, Lord of Hyperdeath. It’s a nice title, but slightly immature.”

“How do you know that?” The flower whispered traitorously, his voice dripping with venom. “Sans couldn’t have told you. He never knew about that. The only one who ever knew the title I had given to myself was Chara.”

Shit, you had given us away. Now, what are you going to do? You stilled and swallowed audibly. The flower’s eyes now resembled the pupils of a cat’s eyes. His stem was hunched and his mouth seemed twisted at its corners. It was ethereal.

“Kid,” he murmured, “how do you know Chara?”

You needed to make a run for it. You moved for the door but Flowey’s thick roots made it to you before you could reach it. They wrapped around you and drew you back, constricting your slim figure. You couldn’t breathe, much less speak.

“You—You said something just before about the three of us getting to the barrier.” He stuttered almost crazily, his head shuddering. “At first, I-I thought you were talking about Sans but you didn’t mean him, did you?”

“What...are you talking…about?” You gasped as he loosened the grip around your neck.

“That’s why your souls are the same! It’s because you are them! Tell me the truth, Chara!” He cried, tears springing to his eyes as he shook you lightly. You had never seen the flower looking so desperate unless he was trying to save his own hide.

He sobbed, allowing you to slide out of some of the vine-like roots. You felt bad for him, a feeling that was completely foreign to you but seemed natural to me. You decided to tell them the truth. “Chara’s soul or the remainder of their soul is inside mine. I’m becoming them. I need to get out of here, Flowey, or else I might never find myself again. The longer I stay down here, the more I become them!”

Flowey’s head flew upwards in order to stare at you in amazement. “That means Chara can come back to me!”

“No, Chara’s soul wants to be free.”

“They…want to leave me? Here? By myself?”

“Flowey, I—” The vines snared you once again and the flower laughed half-heartedly.

“Spare me, kid. I’m going to be the winner in this scenario, no matter what. I don’t care what you want! I want Chara back.” He emerged from his boot and manipulated himself in order to get to your shoulder. “And I don’t care about getting rid of you to get them back.”

You screamed as a thousand needle-like objects stabbed your skin. Those must’ve been Flowey’s thorns. He was completely wrapped around you now, with thin tendrils spreading up over your legs, back, arms, all the way up to your face, where the flower was staring at you intensely.

“You know, the human body is an interesting one. After Chara died and the other children fell, I learned a lot about their anatomy. Did you know that the nervous system is what connects the brain to the body? It sends the signals needed to move certain parts. I was amazed when I found out! Then, I wondered if you could reroute the whole system. Instead of using the original brain, was there some way to connect an alternative source? I indirectly proposed the idea to a certain Royal Scientist and watched her experiment on the humans until she found a way. If you reconnect the nervous system to another magically conductive source, it can block out the signals from the original brain and replace them with the new signals from the new brain. However, I’ve never actually conducted this experiment before so you’ll be my guinea pig. Besides, you were wrong earlier. I’m soulless.

The thorns planted themselves deeply within your body, focusing generally on your spinal cord. This caused your body to fall limp. Flowey laughed as he situated himself at the base of your collar bone and faced forward. He moved your fingers and laughed when he couldn’t manage to put your feet in the right position to stand up. You struggled to gain any control of your body but it seemed that Flowey was correct. You weren’t even blinking your own eyes anymore. Flowey had taken control of all your movements. You could see and think but that was pretty much it. It was as if you were watching a movie.

“I’m going to keep you down here until this body rots,” Flowey promised, speaking with your voice as well as his own. He cackled.

We were royally screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait.
> 
> I recently got a case of almost carpal tunnel so I had to do a rain check on writing since it kills my wrist. As of right now, I can officially type for about half an hour without any pain. So it took a little while to get this out there. Hope you enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Although it is a cliché way to end a story, I wanted to mention that this is my first time writing on AO3. If any of you have any tips or knowledge that I can possibly use, please do not hesitate to tell me. If there are any mistakes in my text, please do not be nervous to point them out! I live for criticism and supportive commentary. I will mention some major plot warnings at the beginning of each chapter but understand that I don't want to spoil anything for you guys. Just to remind you, this is (hopefully) going to be truthful to the intentions of the Underfell characters but if you think I should add something or if there is something you want to see, let me know and I will take your advice into consideration.  
> Thank you and I hope you enjoyed,  
> Ridley Lovett.


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